


when i run out of breath to breathe, it's your ghost i see

by dami_an



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Discrimination, Eventual Romance, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fukuroudani-centric, Japanese Culture, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-29 21:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10862001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dami_an/pseuds/dami_an
Summary: Being the only person on the team who has yet come of age, Bokuto knows he's the odd one.And then, he presents—during practice. Chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Bokuto Koutarou is many things but he isn't one to sink in the self-deprecating round when he catches wind of a student younger than him presenting. He never gets ruffled by the fact that he hasn't presented although he's already in the third year. He never lets it get to him in spite of being the only person in the team who has yet had his secondary gender identified.

 

By the time Bokuto moves to the third-year block, the entire school begins to stare at him. The whispers meld into one continuous stream. Often pointing fingers and shifty looks flash in the corner of his eye. Bokuto ignores them all.

 

It becomes worse when the captaincy torch is passed down to him. Some argue it should've been Washio since he's a third-year Alpha. Others suggest Akaashi's name because he's the only Alpha who's able to keep their uncontrollable team in check, Bokuto's mood swings included, despite being a second-year.

 

There are times this endless dispute makes Bokuto bristle. It's simply inevitable. His optimistic mind can only take so much. It's like him against the world. When it gets too overwhelming, Bokuto seeks comfort in the circle of his friends.

 

"What's with that look, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asks around the straw of his drink. His green eyes are dark in the safety of the shade of a zelkova tree.

 

Bokuto releases a heavy sigh. He picks at the plastic of his bread, deep in jumbled thoughts. Komi attempts to snatch the bread away but fails miserably as Bokuto pulls it back into the security of his hands. Bokuto hisses, "Hand's off my bread!"

 

"I thought you weren't going to eat that," Komi grins sheepishly.

 

Bokuto sticks his tongue out, glaring daggers at Komi who laughs as airy as tinkle bells. Konoha sighs from Sarukui's left side. "C'mon, Bokuto, spill it out."

 

Another sigh escapes Bokuto. "It's stupid."

 

"Bullshit," Konoha spits out.

 

"Now, now," Sarukui, forever a calm Beta, is quick to dissipate the tension. Then he gives Bokuto a concerned look. "Tell us the problem, Bokuto. We all know it's not easy to make you look so dejected like this when it's a non-volleyball related."

 

"It's just," Bokuto hesitates. Closes his mouth. His stomach doesn't settle. "Is it true a captain must be an Alpha?"

 

Loud grunts are heard coming from Komi and Konoha. Washio opts to stare past the chain fence at a flock of flying birds to avoid the eye contact, and Sarukui has a smile that doesn't hint at pleasant at all. They descend into a heavy sort of silence. Akaashi intervenes at last before the silence gets too unbearable, "We've had a discussion about this before, Bokuto-san. You're appointed as our captain because you earned it. You deserve it."

 

"You're an Alpha, Akaashi. Don't you think you deserve it more—"

 

"And you're Bokuto Koutarou, our captain, and our ace. Great knowing you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says, with an air of finality. His stare and tone brook no argument. Bokuto drops his gaze on his bread. Akaashi tries again, "Look, Bokuto-san, our secondary gender doesn't dictate who we are. The fact that you haven't presented doesn't make you any less than us."

 

"Some think—"

 

Annoyed, Konoha shoves a tamago sushi into Bokuto's mouth to cut him off. Bokuto stares at him in confusion and then swallows the sushi bit by bit. Konoha huffs, arms folded over his chest, "You never listen to us, why bother listening to their nonsense now?"

 

Bokuto deflates. Washio raises a brow, saying, "You're making it worse, Konoha."

 

"What? I'm just stating a fact," Konoha defends himself.

 

"Wrong move, bro. I guess we need to cheer him up then," Komi says, with a note of mischievousness. He steals a sushi from Konoha's box and then shoves it into Bokuto's mouth. "There you go, a nice sushi for you."

 

"Hey!" Konoha shouts.

 

Komi laughs and sneaks his hand in to steal another sushi but Konoha swats his hand away. Sarukui sees his chance when the lunch box is within his reach, so he scoops a sushi out and stuffs Bokuto's face, ignoring Konoha's furious call, "Saru!"

 

"Tasty, right? Open up," Komi beams, trying to feed Bokuto a strip of meat from his own lunch box while Sarukui holds out a tempura.

 

Bokuto squeaks. Sarukui and Komi don't make any sign of stopping. More and more foods are shoved into Bokuto's mouth despite his protests, and soon, Washio has to break them apart before it gets worse. Akaashi is kind enough to offer him his drink and doesn't say a word when Bokuto drapes himself over Akaashi to stay out of Konoha's rage. By then, Bokuto is laughing around a mouthful of sushi and tempura and meat, and feeling much, much better.

 

His life is good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or maybe he should hold his thought.

 

It starts before their practice. The change is subtle and slips past Akaashi's sharp observation. His increasing body temperature, his cramp muscles, and even his quickening pulse—Bokuto chalks them all to the countless leaps and sprints and spikes. If his breathing gets ragged earlier than usual, Bokuto thinks perhaps Washio is getting better at blocking his spikes.

 

Until Washio points it out during the break, "Is it just me or you smell different today?"

 

"What, who?" Bokuto blinks, the bottle in midway to his mouth. "Me?"

 

"Yes, you."

 

"Uh, I'm sweating? I mean, look at me."

 

Washio shakes his head "No—well, yes. But you smell distinctively different today. I can't really explain it."

 

"What is it? What is it?" Komi prances over to them, Akaashi following him close.

 

"Akaashi, have you noticed something different about Bokuto today?" Washio turns to Akaashi. Washio's frown deepens, indicating worry, and that fills Bokuto with dread. He's probably come down with something. Alphas are blessed with sharper senses than Omegas and Betas. Even the smallest change won't escape their sharp senses.

 

Akaashi assesses him with his keen green eyes. And then he leans closer to Bokuto's scent gland, not enough to feel Akaashi's warm breath but enough to take a whiff of his scent. Akaashi hums, "Yes, you smell quite different, Bokuto-san."

 

"Ah, Bokuto's smelly, right-o," Komi grins, putting a space of foot between them just to mess with Bokuto.

 

"What? I'm smelly?!" Bokuto shouts, shocked. And then he sniffs at his own armpit. He makes a face. "It smells like sweat."

 

"No, we weren't talking about your sweat, Bokuto-san. It's your scent," Akaashi explains, "You usually have this clean and soapy scent, a product of your shampoo, dye, and hair gel. But this—how should I put this, well, you smell… sweet."

 

At that, the grin falls off Komi's face. He looks instantly alarmed. "Sweet, you say?"

 

"Uh, yes," Akaashi nods once. He exchanges a look with Washio and then gives a firmer answer, "Yes, Bokuto-san smells quite sweet."

 

Komi grabs Bokuto by his arm. His expression is hard, the one that's rarely seen on him. That brings a shudder down Bokuto's spine. Komi looks him straight in the eye when he asks, "Bokuto, have you felt any different today? Like fatigue, or cramps? How about your heart, is it racing? Fuck man, you're burning—"

 

"Wait, wait, one at a time!" Bokuto wrenches himself out of Komi's grip. "I'm feeling fine—well, tired and sweaty and hot, but that's expected when you play volleyball, right? Chill, bro. You worry too much."

 

Komi shakes his head rapidly, turning pale, "No, it's just I'm afraid that—fuck, Bokuto, take my bottle. Drink more. And you two, stay away from Bokuto, now!" Komi situates himself in between Bokuto and them. He spreads his hands apart to keep them at a distance he deems safe.

 

Washio frowns. "What's this about, Komi?"

 

"Stay the fuck away from Bokuto!"

 

"Komi-san, I don't understand," Akaashi says, breaching into the protective bubble Komi created to reach out for Bokuto. Komi hisses at him as if burned.

 

"Fuck," Komi mutters. Bokuto feels alarmed at the serious tone in Komi's light voice. He yanks Bokuto away from Akaashi's reach. His grip on Bokuto's wrist is so tight he winces. Komi shouts over his shoulder, "Come on, Bokuto. We gotta leave now. You're not safe here—where the fuck is Saru—Saru!!!"

 

"Komi—"

 

Before Bokuto manages to finish his question, abdominal pain strikes inside him, sharp and sudden enough to make him suck in a breath. Bokuto widens his eyes, taken aback, and doubles over, body curled up to protect his middle from whatever that caused the pain. Another strike and Bokuto's body tenses up like a livid wire. It's like he's punched in the gut, twice.

 

"BOKUTO!!!"

 

It could've been Komi's voice, or Washio's, or even Akaashi's—Bokuto isn't sure. He can't hear properly, can't see, can't think, can't even whimper, not when his abdominal muscles are clenching up like a vice, followed by the excruciating pain slicing up his insides like shrapnel.

 

"He—help…" It takes more of an effort than it should have just to get a word out of his throat, and fuck, was that really his voice? Bokuto can't even recognize his own voice. It's full of pain, too foreign, too wrecked to be his own. He tries to squint at the hovering face in front of him but his vision is swimming, dotted by encroaching blackness.

 

Loud voices are everywhere, yelling and shouting, brutal and vicious and panicked by turns. Some words cut through the others— _help_ , _heat_ , _stay the fuck away!_ —but they make no sense. Bokuto can't connect them all. Too random. Too hot. Too painful.

 

There's a hand on his cheek, warm but much colder than his own burning skin. He blindly reaches for the hand, desperate for a relief, or a contact, Bokuto can't decide. His eyes are open, and he can't see, he can't see anything. Pain has taken over his mind completely.

 

His body clenches up again. His fingers around the hand curl tighter. Bokuto whimpers.

 

"Hu—hurt." His voice is raw and gritty, thick with pain. "Please. Help."

 

A broken whisper pierces through his clouded mind. Broken because he only catches _Komi_ , _sorry_ , _your mom_ , _home_ , and nothing else. Nothing else because everything has turned dark.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~unbeta'ed (i need a beta-reader for this. anyone? no? okay)~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> proudly beta'ed by the most awesome person ever, Foxyena
> 
> the title is taken from 'skin' by rag'n'bone man


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'ed by Foxyena. he's a wonderful editor, y'know~~~
> 
> (just found out he's a guy *finds a hole to hide this embarrassment*)

 

 

The next three days of his heat were spent inside his room, all blurry, sweaty and messy. Almost everything is registered in an immemorial trance, save for the constant pain and arousal licking up his insides, and the slimy liquid dripping down his naked thighs.

 

Bokuto groans into his pillow, hand reaching his behind to feel the slick. A gasp slips past his lips as his fingers brush over the wet rim. The flame of arousal is burning low in his middle, much more bearable compared to the last three days, where it was scorching and painful. _This is nothing, this is better than before, I can handle this, there's no need to continue this_ , Bokuto mentally tells himself. He can retract his fingers now and clean up. He can—

 

A finger slides inside. Bokuto gasps. No matter how many times he's done this in the past three days, he never gets used to the feeling of something poking his insides. After relearning the weird sensation, he adds another digit and starts to search that wonderful spot that he discovered on the first day of his heat.

 

Warm breaths bounce off the pillow and hit his heated skin. His belly is tight and coiled up like a copper spring. His thick fingers move in and out of him, fast and more rapidly with an exhausting strain of muscles and effort. The other hand sneaks down to the dripping cock. He sets steady strokes to match his fingers in his hole before they become like a quick, twisting piston of motion.

 

Bokuto clenches his eyes shut as his thumb presses across the wet slit, desperate to taste that amazing feeling again. _This is not enough_ , he thinks, not long enough. He needs them to be longer and more slender.

 

A blur of green floats over behind his eyelids. _Akaashi—!!!_ But he bites it back, out of shock and pleasure. Electricity pulses through his belly and his orgasm hit him, hard and unexpected, knocking the air out of him. Pleasure skitters across his body before it settles in the base of his spine, sweet and warm. It takes him a while to catch his breath again. Bokuto sinks into the comfort of his bed, face flushed, exhausted.

 

He pulls his hands away and wrinkles his nose in disgust when he sees his hand coated in come and slick. Annoyed, Bokuto wipes them on the sheets. There's no reason to give a shit about dirtying the sheets. They're stained with his come and he's released way too many times to count since his heat began.

 

Heat.

 

Bokuto sighs. He supposes he should try to get used to it since he's now an Omega. At that thought, he sighs again.

 

While Bokuto never discriminates against Omegas, or other secondary genders for that matter, it never crossed his mind that he was going to present as an Omega. His body is muscular, a result from his passion for volleyball. His voice is loud and his personality often puts him in the spotlight. He challenges people for the sake of adrenaline rush and fun. He doesn't listen to anyone except Akaashi, and occasionally Kuroo. Instead, he makes people listen to him. None of these matches the description of an Omega—soft and small and timid.

 

The shock that dawned on him in the first moment of clarity during his presentation of second gender was so overwhelming, he turned numb. Bokuto ended up sagging against his mother's hold, face tucked in her neck. The only reason why he hadn't lashed out is because his mother's Beta scent soothed him, wrapped him whole like a protective blanket. His mother didn't move from his side, threading her fingers through his damp hair and listening to Komi's words in rapt, until the next wave hit him and Komi had her leaving the room for the sake of Bokuto's privacy.

 

A knock on the door jars his thoughts. Komi's voice ripples through the closed door, "Yo, Bokuto, are you decent?"

 

Bokuto cracks an eye open and  throws the blanket over himself, calling back tiredly, "Yeep."

 

Komi comes in with a tray of dinner and a paper bag. He shuffles towards the bed and places the tray on the study table, the paper bag by the bed on the floor. Komi doesn't say anything about the messy room or his bare shoulder peeking out of the blanket, which Bokuto is eternally thankful for.

 

"How are you feeling?" Komi asks after he pulled the chair from the study table to sit on. He's wearing Fukurodani's dark blue t-shirt underneath his jacket. That means he just came back from the gym. Bokuto sniffs. He misses the familiar warmth radiating on his palm after spiking a ball in. Bokuto pulls the blanket up to his nose.

 

"Disgusting," he says, his voice rough from disuse.

 

"I can see that," Komi chuckles, eyes sliding up and down the bed. He throws the towel draped over the chair to Bokuto. "Go clean up. I'll change the sheets."

 

"No. No, no, no, no!" Bokuto turns bright red at the thought of Komi seeing the wet patches on his bed. He shakes his head rapidly. "I'll change them myself. Or—or my mom will do it. Too dirty! You don't have to—"

 

Komi levels him a look, hands on his hips. For a small guy, he sure has an impressive presence. "Are you fucking kidding me? Dude, I'm an Omega too. I have heats like you, years before you even knew me. This is nothing to me."

 

"No, my mom—"

 

"Your mom went out to buy some stuff. Give her some slack and let me help you. C'mon, we don't know when your next wave is going to hit again, so get your bubble butt moving already. Chop, chop! It's cleaning and dinner time." Komi pokes in the general area of Bokuto's side with the heel of his foot. It lands on Bokuto's upper rib instead. "Move, you big baby. I'm not as patient as Akaashi."

 

His cheeks burn at the mention of Akaashi's name, remembering that the name almost slipped out of his mouth when he was masturbating. His belly churns. Bokuto dives under the blanket.

 

"Seriously, Bokuto?! Come _on_ , just get over it already!"

 

After a good five minutes of wrestling blanket with Komi, Bokuto acquiesces. He loops the towel around his waist to protect his dignity, rushes to the bathroom downstairs and locks the door.

 

In the mirror, an exhausted teenage boy stares back. One with hair that looks like a shaggy mane hanging over his eyes. His dyed hair is damp from perspiration. Bokuto makes a face. He never allows his hair hanging over like that—he doesn't look like an owl.

 

Bokuto quickly washes away any evidence of his heat, eager to get back to his normal life even though it's going to take another couple of days for it to fade.

 

When he returns to his room, freshly-bathed and dressed in a clean sweater, he finds Komi playing with his phone in the chair. The bed is already wrapped in a fresh linen, presumably taken from his dresser. The dirty sheets are in the laundry basket tucked in the corner next to the dresser. The window remains closed to avoid his thick scent attracting any Alphas nearby, but the door is kept open to air the room.

 

The room is still messy but it looks much better. Bokuto whistles, impressed. "Thanks, Komi. You're a godsend, y'know."

 

Komi grins. "Please, there's no need to worship the path I walked on. I'm doing this because it's your first heat. Don't expect to see me playing maid for you again."

 

"Aw, too bad. I was looking forward to it already," Bokuto pouts exaggeratedly.

 

Komi elbows him in the rib. "Shut up and eat your porridge already, asshole."

 

The porridge has some meat in it—an unusual combination but it makes Bokuto's stomach growl nonetheless. Eating meat is a luxury his family can't afford unless there's a sale. His father is out of the picture ever since he can remember. His mother has to work long hours just to put food on the table. She definitely is spoiling him today.

 

Bokuto gobbles down his porridge. He doesn't realize he's been famished until the first slurp of porridge. It tastes wonderful, paired with meat, Bokuto feels like he's in heaven. "Man, I would endure the heat every day if I could have meat like this again."

 

"Hah," Komi snorts from the seat. "Wait until the next wave comes and we'll see if you can say that again."

 

Bokuto shudders at that. Komi is right—it was awful. "How can you keep smiling when you have to go through this hell every two months? I mean, it was so fucking intense. It felt like my stomach turned inside out."

 

"I never said it was easy. You have to get used to it," Komi shrugs. "Plus, I have help."

 

"Help?"

 

"Yep. Saru."

 

Bokuto blinks owlishly. "Saru? What does he do, changing sheets and shit?"

 

Komi smirks, "Aw, Bokuto, you're so innocent. Those are just bonuses. If he's in a good mood, he brings breakfast to the bed too. But that's beside the point. I mean sex, Bokuto. Saru helps me go through my heats with his cock, get it?"

 

He chokes, coughing on his porridge. Bokuto wipes the dribbling porridge down his chin with the sleeve of his sweater. He clears his throat and stares at Komi in disbelief. "Se—sex," he stammers, "Wait, what? You and Saru—you guys are dating?"

 

"Oh, that look, priceless. You're precious, Bokuto, do you know that? You make me want to keep you in my pocket." The grin on his face isn't angelic at all. Bokuto swallows thickly. Komi reclines on the chair. Bokuto catches sadness flickering across Komi's face before it vanishes just as quickly. "I wouldn't say we're dating. Friends with benefits, I think? I need someone to survive through my heats, and Saru isn't seeing anyone. A win-win situation."

 

"So… fuck buddies?"

 

"Dude, you were stammering like a virgin when you said sex but you were fine saying fuck buddies out loud?"

 

"Oh, shut up." Bokuto drops his gaze on the bowl, his face red. He picks at his food. "Does it get easier if I spend my heat with someone?"

 

"Yeah. But there's another way to alleviate the intensity if you don't want that," Komi quickly adds. He retrieves the paper bag from the floor and trades it with the bowl. "That said—here. A gift from your best buddy, that Kuroo guy."

 

"Ah, Kuroo! I forgot to tell him. He must be worried sick," Bokuto rambles on as he searches for his phone. He finds it left forgotten on the floor, in the small gap between the nightstand and his bed. It probably got knocked off when he was in the delirious state.

 

Kuroo left eleven messages. There are five voicemails from him as well. His inbox is full of texts from the Fukurodani Volleyball Club (VBC) chat group, but he can always go through them later. Bokuto shoots off a text to Kuroo's number just to abate his worry.

 

"Don't worry about it. Akaashi told him already,” Komi supplies, “You mom said he dropped by this morning but you were asleep, so he left. She told me to pass the bag to you when you woke up. Go on, open your gift already," he encourages him with a suggestive smile, putting the bowl aside.

 

Bokuto arches a brow but dives his hand in. When he takes it out, Bokuto turns red-beet. He throws it away out of surprise. It lands on his pillow. Bokuto twists his face in disgust. "A dildo?! What the fuck! Kuroo, that bastard."

 

"Hey, hey, don't say that. He was being thoughtful. Be grateful, you jerk."

 

"What do you mean thoughtful?! It's—it's—"

 

"A dildo? Yeah, I can recognize a dildo just fine. That's a thoughtful gift." Komi finishes on his behalf. Then he leans closer to Bokuto's ear, whispering sweetly, dangerously, "Remember that sweet release when you played with that special spot inside you? Imagine it touching that sensitive spot, over and over and over and over and over again as it slides in and out of you."

 

Bokuto sucks in a breath. The remnants of arousal from the last wave that were burning low under his skin are now heating up his insides as he's reminded of the sweet sensation he was feeling when he was fingering himself. A warm blush rises to his cheeks. Bokuto pushes Komi away before it's too late.

 

"What the hell, Komi?!"

 

Komi laughs heartily. "Kidding, kidding. Don't pout. Despite what you think, you're not cute pouting like that, okay? Why don't you look on the bright side instead? Now you have a dildo to help you with your heat. It's better than your fingers."

 

That's a logic Bokuto can't argue. He pouts and looks away.

 

"Alright, alright, you can pout as long as you want. But first—" Komi gets up from the chair and sits on the bed, pressing himself against him. He puts up a peace sign with his right hand while the other hand is occupied with his phone. Bokuto barely makes a pose when Komi clicks the camera button. "A proof for everyone that you're still breathing."

 

"Hey, I wasn't ready," Bokuto protests.

 

"Too late," Komi snickers, typing away on his phone. "I'm sending it to our chat group. They're worried about you."

 

"C'mon, one more time! Komi~! What the—the dildo is in the picture too! Delete it, delete it!"

 

"Oopsie daisy."

 

"KOMI!!!"

 

"Would you look at that, Konoha's reply is priceless!" Komi laughs. Another text pops out. "Oh, Washio too! Man, this guy can be so blunt sometimes. Shit, I just remember the new middle blocker kid's in our chat group too. This is bad, this is bad."

 

"Your fault! You're tainting the kid's pure mind," Bokuto accuses.

 

"Nah, your dildo, your fault."

 

Bokuto's face is red. "You—"

 

"Akaashi's typing," Komi points out. Bokuto reads over Komi's shoulder. "And he's not. And he's typing again. And he's not again. Huh, that's very not Akaashi-ish."

 

A text appears on the screen.

 

**Parliament of Fukuros**

**Akaashi**  
i'm glad  


 

It's just a reply—a very simple one. But Bokuto can tell Akaashi's concern for him just fine, loud and clear in those simple words. His heart flutters and he can't help smiling to himself. If Komi sees the blissful smile on his face from the corner of his eye, he's good enough to not mention it.

 

Komi springs to his feet and fixes his jacket. He pockets his phone. "Well, now they know you're doing great. I'm sure they're eager to have you back at school, and that's including Konoha. That guy's a tsundere, I swear."

 

School. He can't wait to see them at school again, to practice with them. He can't wait to see Akaashi, to play volleyball with him, to spike his tosses, and to see that flicker of Akaashi's rare smiles. Bokuto bites back a smile but to no avail.

 

"Uh oh," Komi says suddenly, with a hint of alarm. Bokuto looks up at Komi, on high alert as well. Komi rubs the nape of his neck. "Maybe it's best to stay at home for this week. It's for your safety."

 

"Why? Something's going on at school?"

 

"Kind of. Not really bad, it's just… crazy out there."

 

"Komi." Bokuto gives him a look.

 

Komi seems reluctant to spill it out. "You see, the news of you being presented as an Omega ripped through the school, and people just went crazy. They—I mean, most Alphas have the intention of courting you now."

 

Bokuto blinks once, twice and then thrice when his brain has difficulty in digesting the information. And then, "What the fuck," is all Bokuto can say.

 

Komi agrees, "Yeah, I know. What the fuck, indeed."

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'ed by the most wonderful person ever, Foxyena

 

 

Monday comes. The sun is bright. The skies look blue. Birds chorus cheerfully. Everything seems to promise him a good day.

 

But Bokuto feels an ominous atmosphere hovering about him at the sight of Konoha and Washio waiting for him in front of his house. Perhaps Komi was right about people going crazy at school after his presentation because his friends wouldn't be standing like sentinels if it wasn't.

 

Bokuto sighs. The day is too bright and fine for this shit.

 

"That bad, huh?"

 

"Komi told you?" Konoha asks.

 

"Not much but I got it just fine." Bokuto locks the door and pockets the key. Then he peeks over Washio's shoulder to find any sign of his favorite vice-captain. There's none to be found. "Where's Akaashi?"

 

"Sorry to disappoint you but it's only Konoha and I this morning. Akaashi went ahead to run some errands. He got you this, though." Washio tosses a paper bag into Bokuto's waiting hand. Bokuto peeks inside. A puff of warm steam emerges from the bag, and Bokuto is elated to see a meat bun nestled inside it like a gift waiting to be open.

 

His heart swells with happiness. Bokuto can't help smiling at the thought of Akaashi waking up early to buy him a meat bun. Akaashi always knows how to make his day. He conceals the wide smile behind the paper bag, whispering, "Akaashi's the best."

 

"Yeah, I know, I know, 'Akaashi's the best, Akaashi's awesome.' Get your stupid ass moving already, dumbass." Konoha kicks him in the ass none too lightly but it's nothing that Bokuto can't handle.

 

"Hey, careful! My ass is fragile."

 

"That's a piece of information that we don't need to know," Washio says.

 

The walk to school is filled with Konoha's snarks about the latest movie he saw last weekend— _who the fuck would do that, oh yes, that fucking guy_ —and Washio's comments— _it made sense, I mean, have you met people?_ Bokuto replies to Kuroo's texts with the meat bun between his teeth.

 

 

**Kubroo**  
Today, April, 8:17 AM

 

on my way to school. konoha & washio are with me

 

that bad, huh? sure you don't want to transfer to nekoma? i can watch your ass, oops, your back

fu, bro. i can take care of my ass just fine. plus, nekoma's no fun

 

i'm deeply wounded. can you see me crying a river over here?

nooo, you're okay, bro. but no akaashi, no fun

 

i'll kidnap akaashi for you. problem's solved

hah, i would like to see you try

 

don't challenge me, bo

 

 

At school, Bokuto can feel the difference. Most stares are directed at him—that hasn't changed. What changes is the intention in their stares. They're filled with lecherous intent. He doesn't like the stares. Bokuto makes his way to his locker shoes, Konoha and Washio trailing behind like a pair of bodyguards.

 

There's a note in his locker. It flutters to the linoleum flooring when Bokuto opens the door. The message is cut and pasted from magazines, askew and horribly lined.

 

 

> _Be MY oMEgA_

 

 

The back of Bokuto's neck prickles. He glances over his shoulder. Half-hidden around the corner of a row of lockers is a familiar guy, who has curly hair and a pair of narrow eyes. Bokuto often saw him sneering at him when they walked past his class before Bokuto came of age. He's from the badminton club. An Alpha. An asshole. And smells like garbage.

 

Bokuto folds the note up slowly. His mind is blank. The guy's throat bobs.

 

He walks down the hallway towards the badminton guy. He can feel Konoha's sharp stare boring into the back of his head. Bokuto stops in front of the Alpha.

 

The foul smell from the Alpha is so strong it makes his head spin. The Alpha licks his bottom lip impatiently. His Omega instinct screams inside his head, saying _'Alpha. Submit!'_ The note crumples in his clenched fist.

 

Bokuto throws the note into the rubbish bin and then he walks towards his classroom.

 

"I'm so proud of you," Konoha whispers when he walks past Bokuto's desk to his own at the front row. Bokuto grins in return.

 

In math class, while the teacher drones on in front, Bokuto writes another reply to Kuroo's text under the desk.

 

 

am i wrong to assume most alphas are assholes?

i hope i wasn't included in that list

you know what i'm talking about, bro

oh, akaashi isn't an asshole. washio, too. they're awesome

you didn't even mention my name. wtf, bro

bro

yeah, yeah, i know. where's the fire, though?

 

 

The teacher turns to the general direction of his desk. Bokuto puts down his phone and scribbles random numbers on his book. He squints at the whiteboard. There are drawings of triangles, numbered with letters— _x_ and _y_ and _z_ and _a_. Bokuto doesn't understand why they put letters in the equation when math is about numbers.

 

When the teacher pivots on her heels facing the whiteboard again, Bokuto returns to his texting.

 

 

 

this fucking asshole of an alpha sent me a note, saying 'be my omega' after all the shit he threw at me

 

he even insulted me before, saying i wasn't fit to lead my club because i hadn't come of age

 

the nerve that guy has

 

 

 

A girl with braided hair is called to the front by the teacher. Her scent trails behind her, not too strong but not sweet, either. Just natural, the one that Betas often emit, like his mother. So she's a Beta, Bokuto concludes.

 

A thought hits him at the conclusion. Bokuto wiggles his nose. It seems his sense of smell has sharpened.

 

She writes a long expression on the whiteboard, the chalk sprinkling all over her hand. The calculation is long—she almost doesn't have enough space to write them all. By the end of her calculation, the answer is so small Bokuto has to squint at it.

 

Bokuto copies the calculation without understanding the process behind it. His phone vibrates. He pauses to read the reply.

 

 

 

sadly, i must admit that majority of my kind are selfish assholes, except me, because we all know that i'm an angel

 

bull

 

ouch, bro. ouch

 

anyway, you should prepare yourself because you're gonna meet more of these assholes in the future. they won't stop until you find a mate. make sure to stay with your pack all the time

 

why me, tho? there are other omegas out there. i'm weird

 

oh, bro. you have no idea

 

 

 

Bokuto is about to type 'what do you mean?' when the teacher appears in the corner of his eye. He looks up. The teacher glares nose down at him. Bokuto cracks a sheepish smile at the fact he got caught red-handed.

 

"Please stop playing with your phone or I'll confiscate it," she says, her voice firm.

 

"Ossu."

 

Once the teacher returns to the front and the girl to her seat, Bokuto receives a text from Konoha.

 

 

**Konoha the kitsune**  
Today, April, 9:49 AM

 

(ಸ‿ಸ) ~ pfft

 

Bokuto snaps his head up, eyes drifting over the third row near the front door where Konoha is seated. Konoha throws a foxy glance over his shoulder at him. Angered, Bokuto flashes him the finger. He mouths 'mind your own business, asshole,' only to receive a warning look from the teacher for his trouble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Alright, who wants to partner with me for warm-ups?!" Bokuto hollers, excited to get the training started. He's missed hearing the squeaks of shoes on the floor, the sound of ball slamming on the ground, and the hoots of 'don't mind' and 'nice serve'. He beams. This is his domain. His world.

 

"Not yet, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says from the door. He changes his shoes and walks over to Bokuto, a clipboard tucked beneath his arm. "You have a captain meeting today."

 

"Eeeeeeehhhhhh?! No way, I want to play!"

 

"Your attendance is required, Bokuto-san. You must go to the meeting."

 

"AKAASHI!!!!!"

 

"You're the captain, Bokuto-san."

 

"But you know this club better than me, Akaashi. You did all the paperwork, not me," Bokuto argues.

 

"Yes, I did," Akaashi agrees, "That's why you have to go. This is the least you can do as our captain."

 

"I know nothing, Akaashi," Bokuto tries.

 

"Rest assured. I have listed down everything that you need to know here." Akaashi holds out the clipboard. Bokuto groans. Akaashi ignores that and walks him through the report. "As you can see, here is the list of our broken equipment. You can find all the planned activities for our club on the second page, including our training camp with the other schools. The following pages show the budget we need for the club after the discussion with our coach and advisor."

 

Bokuto's mind draws blank as they go through pages by pages. Too many words. Too many numbers. Then he changes his tactic. He pleads with his eyes instead. "Do I have to mention all?"

 

Akaashi remains undeterred. "Only when they ask. Don't forget to emphasize on the budget. I know it's not possible to get the exact amount, but try to get as closest as you can."

 

"Fine," Bokuto sighs, resigned. He discovered fairly early on with his team that if they have their mind set on something, they aren't easily swayed regardless how ridiculous or boring the idea is.

 

Of course, this applies to Akaashi too.

 

"Oh, one more thing, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says and then pauses. He looks troubled for a second before he shakes his head. "If… someone makes you uncomfortable in the meeting, give us a call. We'll barge in if necessary."

 

Bokuto blinks, takes in the concerned look on Akaashi's face and smiles. His chest feels warmer at the thought of Akaashi worrying about him. He pokes Akaashi's cheek. "Are you worried because I'm an Omega?"

 

Akaashi is taken aback. "I'm not implying that you're weak by any means if that's what you're thinking. It's just—not all Alphas are kind."

 

"Yeah, Kuroo warned me," Bokuto says. He grins, "Relax, Akaashi. I'm not accusing you of anything. If anything, I'm happy, really."

 

Relief passes over Akaashi's features. Akaashi sighs, pleased, "I know you can fend for yourself. Konoha-san mentioned that you declined Sakamoto-san's courtship offer. That was great, not to succumb to the Omega instinct."

 

"Konoha told you that?" Bokuto blooms at the praises.

 

"He also mentioned that you were playing with your phone in math class. That's why you failed your math test, Bokuto-san. You never paid attention to your class." The disapproving tone is back in Akaashi's voice. Bokuto hides half his face behind the clipboard, sulking. Akaashi makes an unimpressed look. "That look doesn't work on me, Bokuto-san."

 

Bokuto sniffles once to get some pity from Akaashi, and his nose picks up on Akaashi's scent. It smells good. Not too overpowering. It's like the scent of a damp, earthy ground in the forest after a light drizzle. Calming. Refreshing. Bokuto likes this smell.

 

"Bokuto!" A feminine voice calls out from the door. Bokuto and Akaashi bring their heads around to the voice. A girl with bob, black hair, dressed in a Fukurodani VBC jacket, pokes her head inside. She's the captain of the girls' volleyball team.

 

"C'mon, you oaf, we're already late for the meeting," she says, with a pinched look.

 

"Nanase, wait up!" Bokuto shouts back, jogging towards her. He acknowledges Akaashi's 'don't forget to mention the budget' with a wave of his hand and wide smile.

 

They walk together to the administration block. Nanase jerks her head at the clipboard in Bokuto's hold. "Your club report?"

 

"Yeah. Akaashi prepared it for the meeting. Wanna see?" Bokuto hands it over to her, which she quickly skims over.

 

Amazement settles on her face. "Wow, Akaashi-kun did this? He's got a neat handwriting too. Better than mine. Man, I'm so jealous of you. You have a great vice-captain. Can I borrow him? My vice-captain still got a lot to learn."

 

"No," is Bokuto's immediate response.

 

"Please, just for one day. I promise I'll return him in one piece."

 

"No. Akaashi's mine. Find someone else."

 

"Aw, staking claim already?" Nanase teases.

 

Bokuto's cheeks grow warm at the slip-up. "Wait—no, I mean, he's my—wait, wrong, Akaashi's our vice-captain! Yeah, he's our vice-captain."

 

"You're adorable, Bokuto," she says, elbowing him in the arm. "I didn't even say anything about Akaashi-kun being your Alpha. Or… do you actually want him to be your Alpha?"

 

His blush deepens. Even though he almost moaned out Akaashi's name during his heat, which was purely coincidental because he happened to wish for longer fingers and Akaashi's fingers are definitely longer than his, the thought of being with Akaashi never crossed his mind. His relationship with Akaashi is completely platonic.

 

Sure, he likes Akaashi. How could he not—his tosses are perfect, his mind is sharp, his patience has no bound, his scent smells nice, his voice is calming, and…

 

 _Uh oh_ , Bokuto realizes. The list of Akaashi's wonderful traits keeps growing longer than he'd have liked.

 

Embarrassed, Bokuto throws his gaze out of the windows along the hallway. He mumbles, rubbing his nose, "No, of course not. Akaashi, he, uh, he's a good Alpha, and I'm just a weird Omega. Too big, too noisy, not a textbook Omega. He better off with someone smaller and calmer."

 

"Are you kidding me, Bokuto? Do you know why Alphas are so crazy about you?"

 

Bokuto shakes his head, confused. "No."

 

"Oh my god, are you for real?" Nanase exclaims, her hand on her lips. When Bokuto makes no sign of understanding her point, she carries on, "Sheesh, your puny brain, urgh—alright. Hear me out, you oaf. Your huge muscles, your strength, your strong presence, your athletic abilities, your ability to capture people's attention, your ability to voice out what you want—everything that you think they are faults, they actually make you a strong Omega."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Yes, Bokuto. You're a strong Omega, probably the strongest I've ever seen! A strong mate gives strong pups, you get it? Of course everyone would throw themselves at you," Nanase huffs. Bokuto nods slowly as he processes this epiphany. She folds her arms over her chest, lips pursed. "If it wasn't for the fact that I have a mate already, I would've asked you to consider me."

 

"You would?!" Bokuto shouts, surprised.

 

She nods once. "Yeah. Who wouldn't? But that's impossible for me since I already have a mate. Our kind is mated for life, you know that? That said," Nanase raises a brow pointedly, "You better find a good mate, or you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

 

"Really? Geez, I didn't know it'd be this difficult."

 

"No one said it's going to be smooth sailing. But, hey, you've got your Akaashi-kun already. He's a good Alpha, I must say," she smirks.

 

"Told you, me and Akaashi are nothing like that!"

 

"Yeah, sure." The smirk on her face is persistent. Bokuto blushes. He can't come up with something better and leaves her response unanswered.

 

For a moment, they walk in a companionable silence. When they climb up the stairs, she suddenly says, "Y'know, you're still our loud Bokuto Koutarou."

 

"Huh?"

 

"The whispers—they got worse after your presentation," Nanase explains, "Few spread bad words around, saying Omegas shouldn't be a leader—or in this case, a captain. They claim Omegas are meant to be dominated and submissive like a rag doll."

 

That tugs at Bokuto's heartstrings. He stops dead in his track, hand holding onto the rail for balance. Eyes downcast, Bokuto can hear a voice that's similar to his own whispering _'be silent, be timid, listen to Alphas, submit!'_

 

"Bokuto?"

 

Bokuto snaps his head up, wide-eyed. Nanase is staring at him, concerned, from the top of the staircase. Then she rushes down to his side.

 

"Hey," she starts, her voice soft, "Whether you're an Omega or Alpha, it doesn't change the fact that you're a captain like me. Heck, you can be a Beta, and you still deserve to be a captain because you're so bright. You're the ace. You're our loud Bokuto Koutarou. No one can stop you. Not me, not any Alphas."

 

Her kind words sink in, and Bokuto allows himself a smile after some fleeting seconds. "Yeah, you're right."

 

She grins back. "Good! I know your Akaashi-kun already reminded you this a million times, but you can tell me if someone bothers you. I'll kick their sorry, flat asses for you!"

 

"I told you, me and Akaashi are nothing like that. Stop saying like he's mine!" Bokuto half shouts, half pleads, exasperated.

 

Nanase sniggers. "Well, you did say he's yours."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The meeting is uneventful. Sure, Bokuto feels eyes on him, the one that's filled with lust and disgust, but everything goes on without interruption. Eyes clenched shut, he focuses on the amount of their needed budget as he was told, and attempts to run a simulation in his mind to avoid stuttering during the real thing.

 

Instead, what flashes past his mind is images of the perfect curve of a ball flying in the air and the sharp declination before the ball hits the floor. Bokuto grits his teeth, annoyed and restless. He wants to play volleyball; and yet, he ends up stuck in this boring meeting!

 

Nanase's pinch in his side brings him back to reality. She glares dagger at him. Bokuto returns it with a sheepish smile.

 

When his turn to present the report comes, the student council members are concerned about the budget. Their treasurer inquires, "Is that a bit too much for a club?"

 

"Nooooooooooooo, no, no, no, no, no, no," Bokuto draws on for as long as it takes him to come up with a good argument. He quickly thumbs through the report. His eyes spot some highlighted points, probably by Akaashi before he handed the report over.

 

 _Akaashi is a godsend_ , he thinks.

 

Bokuto reads the points aloud, "It's reasonable considering our planned activities. Our coach plans to hold a training camp with the Alliance again this year. We were informed that there has been a sig—uh, what the hell is this—ah, yes! Sorry about that. A significant increase in new members, so we're going to need to buy more equipment and find a better location to ensure the comfort and safety of players. Yes, that's it!" Bokuto slams down the report in a new found enthusiasm. "More new players, more equipment, a bigger location, more money. As simple as that!"

 

The president of the student council flips a page of a document in his hold. He brushes the long fringe away from his forehead as his dark brown eyes scan over the page. "Let me just—I need some clarification on this, Bokuto-kun. This Alliance you mentioned—they include the other schools in the Kanto region, do they not? Shinzen High, Ubugawa High and Nekoma High, yes?"

 

"Yep!"

 

"In this report, it's stated that our school team has a training camp with them every year. Is that true?"

 

"Yep. Before the InterHigh prelims and the Spring High Tournament. The training camp helps us learn about our opponents. Also, we get to improve our skills. Last time, I couldn't get my straight right. But now I can spike as many straights as I want," Bokuto says, proud of his personal achievement.

 

"May I know, where do you usually conduct this camp? And who supervises your training? How about the management?"

 

Bokuto has memorized the answers. These particular questions are often asked by their new members who are excited at the prospect of playing with other schools. He's quick to answer, "It depends on our schedules and the availability of the gyms. The summer training camp is usually held at Shinzen High, though. We're supervised by our respective coaches, obviously. Our managers are awesome, so we're not worried about everything else. They always do a great job!"

 

The president hums thoughtfully. "How about the consent from parents?"

 

"The members were informed in the first meeting of the club! Some say their parents are looking forward to it. So it's okay!"

 

"I see," the president says, "I believe I have all my questions answered. Thank you, Bokuto-kun."

 

"So? So?" Bokuto asks, hopeful. He never thought this boring meeting could be this exciting. Luck is on his side today.

 

"I think that it's important to keep a good connection with other schools anyway. Furthermore, we have a program of exchange students with Ubugawa High, might as well keep the tradition alive to ensure a good relationship with them." The president is silent for a moment, passing looks with his vice-president, before he decides, "Alright, Bokuto-kun, we'll consider your proposal. I can't promise that we can get you the exact amount, but we'll try to allocate the budget—"

 

"Wait a second!" A furious bark thunders in the meeting room, silencing the president.

 

Bokuto blinks at an Alpha standing behind the table diagonally across from him. He recognizes the angular look—the Alpha is the captain of the rugby team. A foul stench wafts from him, hinting at anger and dissatisfaction. Bokuto wrinkles his nose.

 

"This is unfair! Why the hell is that slut getting more than us?!"

 

 _Slut—!!!_ That triggers the fuse in Bokuto's brain. Nanase is clutching her report on his side, an obvious attempt of holding in her anger.

 

"I think he's bullshitting us!" the Alpha continues in angry vein. His large eyes are blazing in anger. Then he points an accusing finger in Bokuto's direction. "The training camp is just an excuse for you to whore around with students from other schools."

 

The president tries to interrupt, "Yamori-kun, you've crossed the line—"

 

"I know your kind, you useless Omega," the Alpha hisses, his words dripping venom. "All we need is a single command, and you'll be spreading your legs like a bitch in heat. Omegas are all like that. You can never lead your stupid club, too busy looking for cocks to fill you up. I bet you let your teammates fuck you every night to get their loyalty!"

 

A heavy silence reigns the meeting room. Some look resigned, namely the captains of the shogi and chess clubs, expecting this to happen now that they have an Omega among them. Most of them agree with the furious Alpha, nodding their heads and whispering to each other. Meanwhile, Nanase is ready to bolt upright from her seat but is stopped by Bokuto's hand on her shoulder.

 

"Well," Bokuto sighs, "I'm sorry that you think our budget allocation is quite unfair."

 

"Bokuto—" Nanase sounds alarmed.

 

Bokuto goes on, "But I'm not sorry for being an Omega."

 

The Alpha clucks his tongue indignantly.

 

"You can call me a slut, whore, or even bitch. You can throw insults at me. I don't care. I've had enough practice to ignore them before I presented, so it's not going to be a problem for me." Bokuto keeps a firm eye contact with the Alpha—a direct challenge. He growls, "But insulting my club, insulting my teammates—dude, that's a big no-no. Just because I'm an Omega, it doesn't mean I can't punch your ugly face."

 

The Alpha leers. "Hah, I'd like to see you try."

 

"Don't underestimate me. My shoulder is firmer than yours, I can swing a powerful punch it makes your head spin," Bokuto warns, "Not like you, I actually practiced. Like a lot."

 

Scandalized, the Alpha barks, "I practice all the time, you slut!"

 

"Really?" Bokuto challenges back. "Me and Komi saw you groping your girl in the janitor closet a few weeks ago while your teammates ran around the field. Believe me, that wasn't the first time we caught you, and I don't think it was going to be the last, either. It's a fucking miracle why they voted you to be their captain. Now I'm starting to question your ability to lead your club."

 

The Alpha turns red, furious. "You—you know nothing about me, slut! You're just a useless, slutty, weak Omega! Like that shorty Omega on your team—a fucking cock sleeve! You can't even think straight when your heat hits you, let alone lead your stupid club."

 

"At least I brought my team to nationals last time. What did you do last year?" Bokuto shoots back, his voice firm. Clipped. Just matter-of-fact. When the Alpha doesn't say anything, Bokuto shrugs nonchalantly. "This Omega is still better than you, after all."

 

"You bitch—"

 

The Alpha climbs up the table to get to him but the captain of the judo club, who happens to sit nearby, is quick to hold him down. He locks a hand behind the Alpha, presses his heavy body down against the Alpha, pinned him on the table, and shouts, "Enough!!! You're only bringing shame to yourself."

 

It takes the Alpha a few vain attempts to realize that he's not going to be able to set himself free. Ashamed of being manhandled like it was nothing despite having a huge body, he stays limp in the hold until being released. He doesn't linger long as he's shoved by the judo captain to the door after receiving a stern warning from the student council.

 

The meeting ends after the chess club presented their report and budget. Bokuto calls out to the captain of the judo club as soon as he's out of the room, "Hey, Okumura, oi! Wait, I want to talk to you."

 

Okumura turns on his heel, his big, strong frame held with deliberate care. His black, huge eyes find Bokuto's. "Yeah?"

 

"Dude, thanks a bunch! You saved my life." Bokuto gives a firm, friendly slap on Okumura's huge arm. "Imagine what would've happened if he managed to get past the table. That'd be terrible, no?"

 

"You're welcome," Okumura replies, "You okay, though? He did say horrible things to you."

 

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm immune to it."

 

"It doesn't mean that you deserve to be insulted like that."

 

"It's okay, it's okay," Bokuto chirps, with a bright smile. "I mean, it's not okay to insult me, but hey, hey, hey, words don't hurt, right? See, see? I'm not bleeding. I'm not hurt. I'm perfectly fine!"

 

"I suppose that's true," Okumura agrees after a minute's observation. Then he smiles, thick lips pulling at the corners. "It's nice to see you radiating so brightly as usual even after your coming of age. Don't ever change, okay?"

 

"Uh… I don't get what you're saying—but sure!" Bokuto snaps a friendly salute, grinning. Okumura bids his goodbye and leaves while Bokuto watches his retreating back. He can't wipe the smile away. It's good to know there are good Alphas as well to balance out the bad ones.

 

Nanase appears on his side and grabs Bokuto by the wrist to drag him away. "C'mon, let's go back. I need to return you to your Akaashi-kun. I bet he's worried sick already."

 

"Nanase, how many times I need to tell you?! Me and Akaashi are nothing like that!"

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited by the most awesome person, Foxyena 
> 
> (○´3｀)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.

 

 

The next morning finds Bokuto staring at his locker shoes filled with letters. Some fall to his feet like an avalanche. Bokuto sighs. He crouches down to collect and shove them into his bag.

 

"Someone's getting popular~" Komi sings from behind. Bokuto swings his elbow at him but Komi is faster to jump a step back. His laugh is distorted by a lollipop in his mouth. "Missed~"

 

Sarukui cups his large hand over Komi's eyes and pushes him back. "C'mon, Komi-yan, give the guy a break. You need an extra hand, Bokuto?"

 

"Yeah," he mumbles.

 

After Bokuto finished bagging the letters with Komi and Sarukui's help, they head to their block. The sting of disapproval and lustful stares is focused on him as usual. Bokuto hums, used to the unwanted attention. Both Komi and Sarukui pay no heed to the stares as well.

 

Sarukui takes one of the letters that peeks out of Bokuto's bag. He examines the white envelope back and forth. He asks, "Are you going to read them?"

 

"Dunno," Bokuto shrugs, "Should I?"

 

"Ask Akaashi. He gets confessed almost every week. He'd know what to do with these letters. Remember the Omega chick from Class 5? She keeps asking him to consider her. It's almost like a weekly thing," Komi says. He snatches the letter from Sarukui and snaps a picture. The picture, then, is posted on their chat group. After that, it occurs to him as he pulls the lollipop out of his mouth with a pop, "On the second thought—Akaashi always knows what to do, doesn't he?"

 

"That's because Akaashi is smart, not like you," Bokuto jabs.

 

Komi snaps back, "Hey, don't insult my IQ. I'm smarter than you."

 

"Everyone is smarter than both of you combined," Sarukui pipes up.

 

"I beg to differ," Komi protests while Bokuto screams, 'I am smart!' Komi goes on, "We're in the same class, dumbass! And Konoha's in the same class with Bokuto. Basically, I'm smarter than Konoha and just as smart as you are."

 

"If I'm not mistaken, Konoha had a family issue during the exam. It affected his studies. Kinda pulled his grades down a bit," Sarukui explains, "On the other hand, my grades are better than yours. Your argument is invalid, Komi-yan."

 

"Oh, I hate you so much, Saru," Komi grumbles, the lollipop shoved back in his mouth. Sarukui hums in response.

 

They find Akaashi wandering around on their floor. Excited to see his favorite setter, Bokuto bounds over to him.

 

He calls out, "Akaashi~!"

 

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi nods. He does the same gesture to Sarukui and Komi as a greeting. There's a sheet of paper in his hold. "Do you know which one is Shirofuku-san's class? I need to pass this form to her."

 

"I can pass it for you," Sarukui offers.

 

"Thank you, Sarukui-san."

 

Sarukui skims over the paper. "Whoa, this form—we're having a practice match with Ubugawa this weekend?"

 

"A match?! Akaashi, a MATCH!!!" Bokuto screams, hands pumping in the air.

 

Some students who're within the hearing range wince. Annoyed, they scoot away from the loud group. Sarukui and Komi seem to notice the dirty looks directed at them. Sarukui doesn't utter a word. Komi flashes them the finger behind his back.

 

"Yes. Since Onaga's joining us as a starting player, Yamiji-san would like to see his performance in a match," Akaashi explains, ignoring Bokuto's ear-shattering shout with a complete ease, and is replied with a thoughtful hum from Sarukui. Akaashi continues, "I think it's a good opportunity for him find a wavelength with us."

 

"Yeah. Poor kid, looking so lost when Bokuto demanded him to stay longer to block for him," Sarukui reminisces. "He just joined us, like what—three weeks ago?"

 

"Aw~ protective of our new kid, aren't we? I'm feeling good about our pups already," Komi jokes. Sarukui doesn't comment on that. Komi's mouth twitches. A sudden tension settles over them. It brings a shiver crawling down Bokuto's arms. He isn't sure what's going on, but he's sure as hell that he doesn't like it.

 

"Akaashi, a match!!!" Bokuto screams again when the silence gets on his nerves.

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san, we're having a match this weekend," Akaashi says. The tension vanishes. Akaashi notices the letter in Komi's hold. "What's that?"

 

"This?" Komi holds up the letter.

 

"Yes."

 

"A confession letter from Bokuto's secret admirer. He's got a bag of them," Komi answers around the lollipop on Bokuto's behalf. He passes the letter back to its rightful receiver. "Bokuto doesn't know what to do with them. Since getting confessed is kind of your weekly thing, why don't you give him some piece of advice?"

 

Akaashi brings his gaze to the bag and then sweeps it up to Bokuto's face before he studies the bag again. "Read them."

 

"Eeeehhhh?! But—but—I can't. Too many of them!" Bokuto shrieks.

 

"Feel free to throw them away," Akaashi replies without missing a beat like he's talking about the weather instead of about people's feelings. With a straight face, he adds, "Though, I must remind you that it's rude not to read their confessions first."

 

No, Bokuto doesn't want to read their confessions—too much of hassle. He pouts, "It's not like they're gonna find out if I didn't read them."

 

"If you so insist on refusing to read the letters, be my guest." Akaashi shrugs. "Don't look for me when they come back biting you in the ass."

 

Bokuto clenches his eyes shut, conflicted. Akaashi has the point—it'd be terrible if one of these admirers found out he'd thrown their confession away without reading it first. He can't find in himself to be cruel. It isn't fair to them.

 

He asks, "What if I fell for them?"

 

"Are you planning to accept their courtship offer?"

 

Bokuto makes a face at Akaashi's nonchalant look. He purses his lips and avoids Akaashi's unflinching gaze. "Well, of course—of course, no. We have the InterHigh prelims awaiting us. I don't have time for this."

 

"I know."

 

And that's it—Akaashi's rare, small smile. Bokuto's heart skips a beat. Whether it's because of Akaashi's smile, or Akaashi's trust in him to decline any courtship offer, Bokuto isn't sure. Either way, it makes his chest feel warmer.

 

Akaashi hasn't finished. "But please read them during your free time. Not in class. Not during practice. If you're getting confessed to, please decline their offer properly, and with respect."

 

"Akaashi, don't talk like it's going to be my first time getting confessed!" Bokuto whines.

 

"Actually, it is," Sarukui chimes in, followed by an amused snort from Komi.

 

"Hey, I got confessed before—the guy from the badminton club."

 

"That didn't count. He didn't say the magic words," Sarukui counters back.

 

"True that. You just stood in front of him, stared at him like a statue and threw the note away," Komi finishes.

 

Bokuto shrieks, scandalized, "How did you know that?!"

 

Both Komi and Sarukui chorus, "Konoha~"

 

"KONOHA!!!"

 

"I hate to cut our conversation short but we've gotta go," Sarukui announces, glancing at his wristwatch. He grabs Komi by the hoodie spilling out of his school jacket and turns around. Sarukui raises his voice over his shoulder, "We have biology class later, and the lab is on the other block. Don't worry, Akaashi, I'll give the form to Shirofuku."

 

Bokuto watches them walk away as they bicker to each other. A sigh falls from his lips, "Maybe I should go—"

 

Akaashi catches his wrist just in the right time Bokuto shifts his weight to the dominant foot. Bokuto shoots him a confused look.

 

Akaashi asks, "Can I talk to you? Alone."

 

Bokuto blinks. "Yeah. Sure."

 

Akaashi leads him to a deserted spot near the staircase. Bokuto stares at the back of Akaashi's head in confusion. Half-shadows from the trees outside play over the corridor and Akaashi. Bokuto's eyes flick down to Akaashi's fingers. They're long, slender and beautiful—just perfect for a good toss. He likes Akaashi's fingers.

 

When Akaashi turns around, though, the longing morphs into a horrified shock at the expression on Akaashi's face.

 

Akaashi looks pissed.

 

One thing that Bokuto learned from their one-year-old friendship is that Akaashi isn't one to express his emotions openly. The disinterest look is his default expression, betraying nothing of his thoughts. It's a wonderful contrast to his lively teammates, who are packed with a large range of expressions and loud voices.

 

There are rare times where Akaashi's expressions are crystal clear, though, only to be worn in order to get his points drilled into their insane brains. Often, the consequences aren't pretty.

 

This is one of those rare times. Bokuto swallows thickly.

 

"I heard some birds twittering," Akaashi begins, and Bokuto gets tensed up hearing the cold tone from Akaashi. The light in his green eyes shifts as the shadow of a cloud drifts over the corridor. "Something happened during the captain meeting."

 

Bokuto averts his gaze away, nervous. His hairs stand up.

 

"A fight between you and Yamori-san from the rugby club," Akaashi adds. "Do you mind explaining to me what happened exactly?"

 

A shudder runs down Bokuto's spine. A fight-or-flight instinct is flooding his mind. Bokuto tugs at his bag strap.

 

"Bokuto-san."

 

Bokuto instinctively snaps his head up to meet Akaashi's eyes.

 

It wasn't a question. Nor a simple call of a name. It was a demand. For an answer, for a response. From an Alpha to an Omega. Bokuto stares at Akaashi. His heart tightens. He clenches his fist and bites his bottom lip, in a war with his true self and his Omega instinct.

 

_'Alpha! Submit!'_

 

"Bokuto-san."

 

At last, Bokuto succumbs to his Omega instinct despite himself. Words spill out of his mouth against his will. "I didn't anything wrong! Yamori didn't like it when the council agreed to our budget and insulted our club in front of other captains. I tried to defend our club but he went on further—he was being a complete jerk. He even insulted Komi, and that crossed the line!"

 

At the end of his confession, Bokuto's chest is already heaving in an effort to catch his breath. Eyes downcast, his vision of his own indoor shoes is watery. Something cold and dark curls in the bottom of his gut like a vacuum space, sucking everything in, and Bokuto hates it. He hates this. He hates that he had to go against his will at a bark of command from an Alpha. He hates the fact the Alpha is Akaashi.

 

Betrayal cuts him deep like the way the bag strap cuts into his shoulder. Heavy. Pressured. Hurt.

 

A sob escapes him.

 

"Bokuto-san?" Akaashi sounds alerted. He closes the foot of space between them, hand reaching out for Bokuto.

 

Bokuto recoils as if burned. He squats down and buries his face in his knees, arms around his legs. The strap slips off his shoulder. The bag brushes against his thigh. It takes him everything not to tear up. He doesn't like this—it's completely different from his mood swings. It's worse. While his mood swings often make him feel down, this makes him feel utterly useless. Helpless. Worthless. Vulnerable.

 

On instinct, he makes himself as small as possible, in hopes that he becomes invisible. Invisible from the eyes of an Alpha. Invisible from Akaashi.

 

"Bokuto-san." Akaashi's voice sounds so close, and there's a warm breath skating by his ear. Akaashi's presence is warm by his side. But unwelcome. He feels boxed in. Suffocated. The earthy scent from Akaashi tickles his sensitive nose. The scent turns his stomach. Bokuto doesn't remove his face from the safety of his knees.

 

Akaashi tries again, "Bokuto-san, I'm sorry for making you upset."

 

Bokuto doesn't move.

 

"Bokuto-san, please."

 

The desperation in Akaashi's voice prompts Bokuto lifting his eyes. Akaashi has lowered himself down to be Bokuto's eye level. Bokuto looks into Akaashi's green eyes, searching.

 

"I'm sorry, Bokuto-san," Akaashi whispers. Regret is thick in his tone. Bokuto pities him.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san. I meant it. Really," Akaashi says, his voice soft, "I hope you can tell me what did I do making you so upset, though."

 

Bokuto tears his gaze away.

 

"Bokuto-san, please?"

 

He sniffles once. Twice when his nose hasn't cleared up. His voice cracks when he whispers, "Your voice—I didn't like it when you did that."

 

"My voice?"

 

"Yeah. The one that you used before. It forced me to answer to you although I didn't want to."

 

"Oh," is all Akaashi says, his hand poised over his throat, wide-eyed. Then he drops both of his knees on the floor. He bows until his forehead touches the linoleum flooring. His voice is muffled as he confesses, "My apology, Bokuto-san. I didn't mean to use my Alpha voice on you. It was very inappropriate of me making you submit against your will."

 

"Wha—what, Alpha voice?" Bokuto asks, his vulnerability vanishing in the blink of an eye when he sees Akaashi kneeling down before him.

 

Akaashi, an Alpha, is asking for his forgiveness. Bokuto becomes flustered. Awkward, his eyes roam around. He notices their surroundings for the first time since his sudden breakdown started. They're still in the corridor, open to everyone to see.

 

Fortunately, most people have thinned out into their own classes but Bokuto isn't going to push his luck. It wouldn't be good for Akaashi if people caught them like this—an Alpha bowing to an Omega.

 

"Akaashi, can we stand up? It's—uh, my feet are killing me."

 

Akaashi remains in his position. Bokuto gets the message. He sighs, "Yeah, okay. Alright. I forgive you. For real, Akaashi. I'm not upset anymore. Can we stand up, please?"

 

They get back to their feet, Bokuto in hurry while Akaashi rises slowly as if there's a boulder sitting on his shoulders. From Akaashi's reluctance to meet his eyes, Bokuto figures out that Akaashi hasn't shaken off his guilt.

 

"I hate that Alpha voice thingy but you didn't mean to do it, so it's alright," Bokuto tells him to make Akaashi feel better. "Just don't do it again, okay?" he mumbles, his tone awkward and unused to have their positions reversed now that he's trying to lift up Akaashi's mood. On the court, he does it without realizing it, with body gestures and cheers like it's a natural thing—it is _his_ thing. Off the court, it's weird, even more so when the atmosphere is quite heavy.

 

Akaashi opens his mouth. Closes it. And smiles that soft smile. Patches of sunlight paint over Akaashi's features when he cocks his head to the bright side. They illuminate Akaashi's lips. His smile looks ethereal. Beautiful.

 

"I promise," he vows. Bokuto's cheeks feel warmer.

 

"Any—anyway." Bokuto struggles to find his words after feeling such a warm sensation. He shifts his weight to another foot. "Why did you look so pissed? I know it wasn't a good idea to challenge Yamori but—but I had to, y'know. He was being mean."

 

"Oh, that," Akaashi breathes, "I wasn't angry that you defended our club. And Yamori-san was being mean to you, so you had the right to argue back. You did the right thing, Bokuto-san."

 

"So?"

 

"Actually, I was dissatisfied by the fact that you never told me about it."

 

Bokuto blinks.

 

"Bokuto-san, I told you to give us a call if someone's bothering you, didn't I?" Akaashi begins, "Everyone was present in the gym yesterday—you could've called anyone of us to help you but you didn't. I stayed behind with you an hour longer than the others, and it never occurred to you to say anything to me? Not even a word?"

 

Annoyance is apparent on Akaashi's face. Bokuto backs away a little, nervous.

 

"Do you know what annoyed me the most?" Akaashi gives him a look. Bokuto doesn't answer. Akaashi carries on, "I had to hear this from other people. And believe me, their versions were exaggerated. Worse. Imagine my feelings to have to hear all the horrible things instead of listening from yourself."

 

Bokuto opens his mouth but nothing comes out of it. Bile fills his mouth.

 

"You didn't even say a word about you getting insulted when you explained to me just now. You only focused on the honor of our club and Komi-san. No a single word about you. Just how far would you disregard yourself?"

 

Bokuto drops his gaze on the floor. He doesn't like feeling guilty. Especially when Akaashi inspires guilt. He manages a single word out, "Sorry."

 

An audible, exhalation of breath is heard from Akaashi. "Look, Bokuto-san. I know you're strong. But it doesn't mean that you have to face them alone. You have us—the team to stand up for you. You don't deserve to be insulted, to be called names. You deserve better so much more. Please do not sell yourself short. You can lean on us. There's no one on our team who will not offer their shoulders to lean on when you need it. There's no one that thinks of you anything less when you feel it too much for you to bear alone."

 

Bokuto stares at Akaashi. Something warm floods his chest. There's a flutter in his stomach, wonderful and sweet.

 

"Just tell us and we'll be there for you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi promises.

 

At last, he can't contain his happiness. Bokuto cries, "Akaashi, I'm so touched I could cry!"

 

"Please don't. You're an ugly crier."

 

And the mean, blunt Akaashi is back. Bokuto whines, "Akaashi!"

 

Akaashi isn't fazed. "It's time to go to your class, Bokuto-san. We're already ten minutes late for our first classes. This is unacceptable."

 

"AKAASHI!!!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's one of these moments that Bokuto wishes he was a normal Omega—better yet, a Beta. Trapped between two bickering Alphas; the captain of the tennis club and the smartest girl in their school, who stopped him the moment he stepped out of the academic block and dragged him the nearest vending machine, Bokuto yearns for his freedom.

 

"Uh, Nishimura," Bokuto addresses the captain but is cut short by the captain himself.

 

"Please, Koutarou-kun, just call me Satoshi," the captain says dramatically. He runs a hand through his curly, medium-length brown hair to reveal his blue eyes— _contact lens, maybe?_ Bokuto catches a twinkle of mischievousness in those eyes and shudders.

 

"How dare you call my mate by his first name?!" the girl snaps, her long, braided dark hair swaying as she takes a step forward. Her bright green eyes glint behind her round glasses. "You have no right."

 

"How about you? You claim he's your mate although he hasn't accepted your courtship offer," Nishimura remarks, with a smirk. "So full of ourselves, aren't we, Kobayashi-san?"

 

A sharp scent, the one resembles a cologne, from the captain hits Bokuto's sensitive nose. He shakes his head a little to chase the dizzy spell away.

 

"You aren't any better. You think I didn't know about the incident with Yamori-kun?" she hisses, "You let that bastard run his mouth and humiliate Bokuto-kun. Just like the others, you didn't defend Bokuto-kun when he was insulted. You're no different than Yamori-kun."

 

Another spicy scent belonged to Kobayashi causes Bokuto to sneeze. It goes unnoticed by the two Alphas as they continue snapping at each other. Bokuto rubs his itchy nose.

 

"In my defense, it would've been worse if Alphas butted in—maybe a bloodshed. It was a wise decision to stay away in order to avoid any further complications," Nishimura explains. Then he meets Bokuto's eyes. "However, I was astonished, Koutarou-kun, to see you challenging Yamori-kun back. It was very brave of you, for an Omega, and made me realize that you're the most suitable mate for me."

 

Bokuto takes a step back, alarmed.

 

"Personally, I think the punishment wasn't sufficed, either," Nishimura resumes his dramatic speech, with a frown, "Unfortunately, our society and rules always favor Alphas, and I was obligated to agree with our president's verdict. However, Koutarou-kun, I can assure you that such an incident won't happen again. I'll protect you at any cost shall you accept my courtship offer and be my mate."

 

"Bullshit, you're all but talk," Kobayashi spits. Then she looks Bokuto straight in the eyes, green clashing with golden. "Listen, Bokuto-kun. Pups produced between a mating of an Alpha woman and an Omega man are proven the strongest and healthiest. Imagine how wonderful our pups will be, Bokuto-kun. Our family will be great. I'll take care of you, cherish you for the rest of our life if you choose to accept my courtship offer."

 

Feeling boxed in, Bokuto creates some space between him and the two Alphas, hands up at the chest level to protect his privacy bubble. It feels strange to embrace the concept of privacy now since he's known to neglect its importance around his close friends.

 

"Uhm, actually, uh," Bokuto begins. He scratches his cheek. "I have to reject both of you."

 

Nishimura drops his jaw. Kobayashi falters but recovers just as quick, "Why?"

 

"You see, the InterHigh prelims are just around the corner. So we're going to get very busy soon. I don't think I have time for everything, never mind courting—"

 

"That's okay. That's fine," Nishimura is quick to intervene. He grabs Bokuto's hands. Bokuto widens his eyes. Nishimura rambles on, "I won't mind if you want to focus on volleyball. It's okay if you want to stay longer to practice, too—I'm willing to wait for you. I'll come to your match, every single of them, and cheer for you. I'll be there for you every step and moment, I promise you this."

 

"Hey, you—" Kobayashi pushes at Nishimura's shoulder, so Bokuto is released from Nishimura's hold. "Bokuto-kun, hear me out. I understand your passion for volleyball, I really do. I won't stop you from playing. I'll wait for you after practice. I'll provide you with good meals which are suitable for your active life. I'll cheer for you in the tournament. In fact, I believe in you to bring victory to our school."

 

Their rushed words floor Bokuto. Anxiety crawls under his skin, intensified by their strong scents. He swallows hard.

 

"Bokuto-san?"

 

A voice snaps Bokuto out. Relief washes over him when he sees the new middle blocker kid— _Ona…ya, no, Omonaga?_ Bokuto grins, "Omonaga!"

 

"It's Onaga, Bokuto-san," he corrects. Onaga fidgets under the scrutiny of the Alphas. He bows apologetically, "I'm sorry for the interruption. Akaashi-san told me to come and get Bokuto-san. He's late for practice."

 

"Don't mind, don't mind!" Bokuto escapes from the Alpha and rushes over to Onaga. "Speaking of, where's Akaashi?"

 

"Ah, he said he shouldn't intrude. But uh—" Onaga glances over his shoulder. Bokuto follows the line of his sight and finds Akaashi, dressed in Fukurodani's VBC jacket, standing under the shade of trees near the basketball gym. Bokuto's smile falls.

 

Akaashi's face is a mask, and half-hidden by the shadows of evening. He's perfectly still, except for the glint in his green eyes.

 

Goosebumps break across Bokuto's skin. Bokuto sidles closer to the new middle blocker kid out of instinct. Akaashi is glaring, but not at him, Bokuto realizes. He's glaring at the Alphas, sharp and cold.

 

Then the gleam in his dark green eyes changes as he turns to leave. Bokuto is startled out of his stupor. He breaks into a sprint to catch up with Akaashi. "Aka—Akaashi, wait up!"

 

Bokuto catches Akaashi before he disappears into the small alley in between the tennis court and the basketball gym. He manages between his ragged breaths, "Akaashi, it's not what you think—wait, I don't know what you're thinking—uh, I rejected them. Just like I said. I kept my words."

 

Akaashi doesn't say anything. The sound of balls bouncing and the squeaks of shoes float from the tennis court. It makes the silence between them more oppressive. It makes the hammering of his heart seem louder. Bokuto feels uncomfortable trapped in this silence.

 

"Akaashi, are you mad at me because I took so long…" Bokuto's voice trails off when Akaashi makes no indication of replying. Bokuto cringes. He toys with the hem of his sleeve.

 

There's a minute's silence before Akaashi answers, "No, I'm not."

 

"Then, why did you—"

 

Bokuto doesn't finish his question. Perhaps it's better not knowing much. He decides to trust Akaashi. If Akaashi said he's not angry with him, then it's true. Akaashi won't tell him lies. He just won't.

 

So Bokuto settles on, "I'm glad."

 

Akaashi doesn't reply. He doesn't move, either. Instead, he takes Bokuto's hand right into his own. Bokuto sucks in a breath. Akaashi's long fingers skate over Bokuto's, rubbing, gliding before they nestle between the gaps of Bokuto's fingers. Akaashi's hold is firm. Warm. Alive. Bokuto's heart pounds.

 

"You have chubby fingers, Bokuto-san," Akaashi comments.

 

It snaps Bokuto out. "What—are you saying my fingers are fat?!"

 

"Baby fingers."

 

"Akaashi!"

 

"Where's Onaga?" Akaashi lets go of his hand and peeks behind him. "You didn't leave him there with Nishimura-san and Kobayashi-san, did you?"

 

"Aaaaaaahhhhh, OMONAGA!!! I forgot about him!" Bokuto presses his palms against his cheeks, aghast. "I'll go back and get him."

 

Akaashi stops him. "It's alright, Bokuto-san. I'll go. You should head to the gym first. Yamiji-san's looking for you."

 

"But Akaashi—ah, Omonaga!" Bokuto shouts as soon as he sees the kid approaching them. He lands his hands on the kid's shoulders, eyes sliding up and down to search for any injury. "Are you okay?! You're not hurt, aren't you? Was it scary? Don't worry, I was scared too! I'm sorry I left you there alone."

 

"It's Onaga, Bokuto-san," Onaga sighs, "It was scary but I'm fine. I managed to—wait, Bokuto-san, I'm really fine—no, you don't have to check my armpit—Bokuto-san, no, my hands are fine—and my back, too—Bokuto-san!"

 

"Bokuto-san, your maternal instincts are showing," Akaashi remarks from behind, and it ceases him entirely. His body stops moving. His brain shuts down.

 

Bokuto blinks and then pulls his hands away. He balls them into fists before he unclenches them again, and repeats the movement as the comment sinks in. "Oh," he says.

 

Onaga looks worried. "Bokuto-san?"

 

"Maternal instincts," Bokuto mumbles to himself. Then he flicks his eyes up back to Onaga's. "So… pup?"

 

Akaashi offers an answer, "To your Omega instincts, yes, he's a pup—your pup, to be more exact, considering now Onaga's part of our pack."

 

"Oh," is all Bokuto manages, deep in his thinking process to digest this.

 

"Uh, Bokuto-san, look," Onaga tries, with a cringe, "I know this is new to you—Komi-san's warned me, and really, I would've felt weirded out by all of this, too—or maybe no, er, I don't know, I haven't presented—uh, Bokuto-san, you probably don't like the fact that you're now an Omega but look, it's cool if you think me as your pup—I'm not saying that you should follow your Omega instinct if you don't like it—what I'm saying here is that I'm cool, you're cool, this is cool—shit, ah, I cursed, I'm so sorry, I really don't know what to say—"

 

Upon seeing his kouhai stumble with his words because of him, Bokuto can't repress the urge to comfort him. He slaps him in the arm, hard, to snap him out of it. Onaga widens his eyes. Bokuto beams, "Don't worry, don't worry! It's cool. I don't mind treating you like my pup—given that you're cool too."

 

"Oh," Onaga blinks. Then he titters. "Yeah, sure. I'm cool."

 

"Then, we're cool!!!" Bokuto announces, "Akaashi, I've got a pup! His name's Omonaga and he's good at volleyball and he's taller than me. How cool is that?"

 

"It's Onaga, Bokuto-san," both Akaashi and Onaga correct him, but neither of them bothers to stop Bokuto from going into a long ramble about it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> canon: konoha's in Class 3, not Class 1 like in this fic. but eh, this is _a_ fanfic


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, many thanks to Foxyena for proofreading this~
> 
> by the way, tarako is a salted roe food, usually made from Alaska pollock (and you'll know why)

 

 

"Akaashi, we gotta win this match!"

 

"Of course, Bokuto-san."

 

"Akaashi, set tosses for me!"

 

"Of course, Bokuto-san."

 

"Akaashi, I want to spike some straights to—"

 

And he's cut short by Konoha's light jab in the rib, followed by Konoha's furious whisper, "Too loud, dumbass! We're on the train, for fuck's sake. Consider others too!"

 

Bokuto scans the empty radius around them, which had been occupied a few minutes prior. People probably found his loud voice annoying, so they ended up distancing themselves away from him and his friends. Bokuto brings his weight to his left foot and smiles sheepishly at Konoha. Annoyed, Konoha reclines on the seat and puffs his cheeks, arms folded over his chest, legs stretched out on the free space in front of him.

 

"Use an indoor voice next time," Washio, standing on Bokuto's right side, reminds him. His bag bumps against Bokuto's every time the train rattles in its track.

 

"I doubt Bokuto even knows what an indoor voice is," Sarukui comments from the seat in front of Washio. He shifts in his seat. Sitting meshed between the solid body planes of Sarukui and Onaga, Komi grunts in his sleep against Sarukui's arm when he senses his pillow moving.

 

Sarukui reaches out with the other hand and places his palm over Komi's eyes. Komi scrunches his face up. Then he relaxes and continues to snore softly. Sarukui removes his palm.

 

Bokuto has the urge to capture the cute moment. Because he's no saint, Bokuto reaches for his phone in the pocket but a small jolt on the ride almost has him losing his balance. Fortunately, Akaashi is quick to loop an arm around Bokuto's waist to prevent Bokuto from falling.

 

"Careful," Akaashi whispers under his breath. Bokuto cracks an apologetic smile. Akaashi releases him, eyes back on a novel in his right hold but he presses himself close against Bokuto, his shoulder to Bokuto's back, to keep him steady.

 

Being this close, Akaashi's scent, mixed with the scent of old papers from his novel, encases Bokuto whole. It's strange to have such a natural scent, the one resembles damp, old woods and fresh leaves, wafting in the crowded cabin, and yet, Bokuto can't help soaking in the earthy scent of Akaashi.

 

"It's amazing Komi-san can sleep through Bokuto-san's shouts," Onaga remarks in awe, "I mean, Bokuto-san was very, very loud. And he's sitting in front of Bokuto-san. How do his ears survive that much of noise?"

 

"Akaashi, my pup made fun of me," Bokuto whines, "Do something about it."

 

"Komi can sleep everywhere as long as Saru's around to be his pillow," Konoha supplies, pretending like Bokuto never complained anything about Onaga making fun of him with an ease.

 

"Akaashi, Konoha's treating me like an airhead. Tell him not to do that!" Bokuto cries.

 

Akaashi rests the novel on the half of his face, just enough to reveal his green eyes, meets Onaga's and Konoha's eyes and then buries his nose deep in the book again. He says, voice muffled by the novel, "Onaga, please do not make fun of Bokuto-san. Konoha-san, please do not treat Bokuto-san like he's a ghost."

 

"Akaashi, you didn't even sound sincere!" Bokuto complains. Akaashi hums in reply, eyes on the book. Onaga has a weak apologetic smile. Konoha chuckles that devious little noise.

 

"Indoor voice, child," Washio warns. Bokuto gives a sheepish laugh.

 

There's a vibration in his pocket. Bokuto holds onto the rail overhead to keep his balance steady, then he fishes his phone out. It's a text from Gora, the captain of Ubugawa High, posted on the Alliance chat group.

 

 

 

**Alliance's buchou squad**  
Today, May, 8:16 AM

 

**Tarako Gora**  
fukuro, location?

 

 

Bokuto squints at the railway network map framed on the cabin wall. He tilts his head when he can't read the words. He asks Sarukui, being the closest one to the map, "How many stations left?"

 

"We just passed Kanagawa. So, another station left before we get off at Kanagawa-shimmachi. Probably going to take another ten minutes," Sarukui answers. "Who's asking, Shirofuku? Are they already there yet?"

 

"No idea. It's just Tarako asking our whereabouts," Bokuto says as he types a reply.

 

 

 

just passed kanagawa station. 10 mins, tops

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
what's the fuss?

 

**Kubroo**  
the owl and the pollock are having a practice match today

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
already?

 

**Tarako Gora**  
am not a pollock

 

**Kubroo**  
pollock

 

pollock, copyright by kuroo

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
pollock, copyright by kuroo, copied from bokuto

 

**Tarako Gora**  
go die

 

 

A laugh spills out of Bokuto's mouth, barely contained by his other hand. He sees Ogano, the captain of Shinzen High, typing on the screen.

 

 

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
for real, though? the season hasn't even started

 

**Kubroo**  
dude, which alternate universe you're in? it's already may. prelims are on june, remember?

 

**Kubroo**  
go back to sleep

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
go die, copyright by tarako

 

we've got a new middle blocker this time. so, our coach wants to see if he can blend in with us in a match

 

he's good, y'know. taller than me. am so proud of him!!! (/ ｡> Θ<｡(˶′ Θ‵˶)> he doesn't mind being my pup, too ♡ ♡ ♡

 

kuroo's right. it's already may. we're starting to warm up our engines now

 

expect to receive a challenge letter from us, the owls, soon, broccoli!!!

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
how many times do i have to tell you not to call me that?!

 

that's your name on my contact list

 

blame that on tarako

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
TARAKO!!!

 

**Tarako Gora**  
broccoli

 

**Kubroo**  
kids, how many times do i have to tell you that's rude

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
TRUE!!! listen to kuroo

 

**Kubroo**  
...to broccoli?

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
go die, you sneaky cat

 

**Kubroo**  
broccoli's on the rampage!!! nyan nyan kya~! ε=ε= ε= ε= (⊃≧ᆺ≦)⊃

 

 

Bokuto is about to send a reply to the chat group when he receives a private text from Gora.

 

 

 

**Tarako Gora**  
Today, May, 8:24 AM

 

i heard from kuroo you presented a couple of weeks ago

 

yeah. am an omega now

 

so i guess congratulations are in order, then

 

thanks!

 

i'm not trying to imply anything bad here, but if anyone on my team bothers you, please tell me. i won't hesitate to take action even though they're my teammates when necessary

 

i don't tolerate harassment towards omegas

 

or anyone, for that matter

 

 

A warm sensation spreads in his chest after Bokuto finished reading the texts. Touched, he shoves his phone in Akaashi's face, "Akaashi, Tarako's a good Alpha even though he looks so scary. See, see?! I'm so touched!"

 

Akaashi leans away to have a good look at the screen. He glances over and then smiles, the one that Bokuto likes so much, "That's good to know, Bokuto-san." Then he looks Bokuto straight in the eye, firm, "Of course it applies to us, too. Tell us if someone bothers you. Do not repeat what happened last week."

 

"Akaashiiiiii," Bokuto calls out, recalling back what happened between him and Akaashi on the corridor last time. He also doesn't want a repetition of the incident. "That was only one time."

 

"Still a serious issue for me," Akaashi says. Bokuto pouts, opting to shoot a thank-you reply to Gora than arguing with Akaashi.

 

A static female voice announces they've arrived at their stop. It only takes Sarukui a pinch on Komi's nose to rouse Komi from his short morning nap. There's a red mark on the side of Komi's cheek from where he passed out on Sarukui's arm when he groggily gets to his feet, with Sarukui's help. Washio struts out of the train first, Onaga following close. Konoha lets his eyes dart from one girl to another as he walks, hands in his pockets. Akaashi urges Bokuto to move faster with a small push on Bokuto's back after getting a text from Shirofuku, saying the rest is already waiting for them at the school gate.

 

"Alright, here we go!" Bokuto cheers, excited to have their first practice match for the season, and skips all the way to Ubugawa High.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ubugawa is a strong team, Bokuto has to give it to them. Their serves are insanely powerful, like cannonballs, whipping the ball across the court and smashing baselines, smashing sidelines, whizzing beside the faces of their opponents.

 

 _But that's okay_ , he thinks, it's okay, they're doing okay because Fukurodani is stronger. They have Komi on their side. Bokuto knows their libero lacks technique and power—Komi is aware of it, too. Komi never lets his weaknesses get to him, though. Instead, he works on his speed, stamina and jumping ability to make up for it. He challenges every spike and serve head-on, with his short hands and legs, loud voice and unwavering determination. It's as if he's on the frontline of a battlefield, ready to receive any bullet to protect his team, and Bokuto respects Komi for it.

 

Once the serve is cleanly received, they have the chance to attack. Ubugawa has a solid block as well. With their impressive heights, their middle blockers tower over the spiker, hands forming a strong wall to stop any spike from breaking through.

 

But it's not enough to stop Fukurodani. Never. Both Washio and their new middle blocker are capable of ripping a spike in. Sarukui, despite his friendly smile, packs a powerful swing in his long limb. Being a well-rounded player on their team—and a sneaky fox, Konoha is too unpredictable to read his next move.

 

And 'impossible' doesn't exist in Bokuto's dictionary. He doesn't care if this is a mere practice match. He doesn't care if this match is a just test for their new middle blocker. As long as there's a net between them, he's giving his all. Bokuto craves for a satisfying spike so badly it's no longer a yearning, it's become an obsession. A necessity in his life.

 

"BOKUTO-SAN!"

 

Akaashi's voice is loud, so loud it rings across the court, and Bokuto can't help himself. He has to respond to Akaashi's call. It's his ball, a toss from Akaashi just for him. Eyes locked on the ball, his body moves on its own accord, charging forward and leaping for the ball.

 

Akaashi's toss is perfect as usual—it doesn't have a strong spin in it, nor an impressive accuracy to land directly on his palm. No, Akaashi's toss is floaty and sometimes the course is a bit skewed, so Bokuto has to alter the rotation of his arm to get that satisfying spike.

 

But it has a good height, the one that he's comfortable with, the one that he likes, and to him, that's more enough. It is a perfect toss.

 

His eyes spot three blockers right in front of him. In that brief second, he sees a perfect course for his spike; _a cross!_

 

"Rip it in!" Komi shouts from behind, and Bokuto slams the ball as hard as he can.

 

The ball whizzes beside the palm of the most left blocker, so close Bokuto thinks it skims the skin before it hits the court, hard. The sound of the impact resounds in the gym. It rings in his ears.

 

For a long moment, no one moves an inch. The referee blows once for the point and then twice, indicating the match has ended.

 

Bokuto brings his head around. Akaashi has a smile on his face. It's the sort of smile that's sincere, glittering from his green eyes as well as from his mouth. His cheeks are round. Akaashi looks satisfied. Reality settles in Bokuto. A burn of sting spreads across his palm. The muscles in his shoulder ache from the countless overhead rotations. A warm sensation fills him.

 

Bokuto pumps his fist in victory, eyes clenched shut, shouting, "HEY, HEY, HEY!!!" at the top of his lungs.

 

Washio gives him a high-five. Komi slaps across his back, with a hearty laugh. Konoha lets out a long sigh but there's a smile on his face. Onaga hesitates to express his happiness, wrapped in awkwardness for being a new player in Fukurodani, so Bokuto reaches out and runs his hands all over Onaga's head.

 

"You did great, Omonaga! I'm so proud of you! Coach, Omonaga did great, didn't he?! Can we keep him? Pretty please!" Bokuto turns to his coach, with a hopeful smile. The coach returns it with a smile of his own, almost fatherly.

 

"It's Onaga, Bokuto-san," Onaga corrects him.

 

"He's not a stray animal, dumbass," Konoha reminds him.

 

"Really," Gora says on a sigh from the other side of the court, "You guys are strong."

 

Bokuto laughs. "I know right!"

 

"But next time we'll win," Gora vows.

 

"Sure. Come at us with everything you've got, we won't back down," Bokuto agrees, voice layered with pride.

 

For once, Bokuto doesn't have to look behind him to know if his teammates are on the same page with him. He doesn't have to because, in the end, they're all like him—always hungry for victory and challenges.

 

They're owls, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto's steps are light. Having come to Ubugawa so many times for practice, he's memorized the whole school plan like the back of his hand. So he didn't mind going to the toilet alone since his teammates were busy packing their bags. On the way going back to the changing room, he types a quick text to Kuroo's number.

 

 

 

**Kubroo**  
Today, May, 11:27 AM

 

we won! 2 - 0

 

 

A minute later, his phone rings. It's a call from Kuroo, much to his delight. Bokuto answers after two rings, "Bro!"

 

"Bro!" Kuroo says back.

 

"Bro!"

 

"Bro!"

 

"Bro, we won!"

 

"Yeah, you told me. Expect nothing less from you."

 

Bokuto can hear Kuroo's proud smile in his voice. He knows Kuroo's happiness for him is genuine although the man is renowned for being a provocative-slash-manipulative captain whenever he wants to be. Often the result isn't something that Bokuto wishes to see—Kuroo's a great manipulator, learned from Kenma. This is true when reversed. It's a reciprocally friendship where they both give and receive support. There's a reason why they're able to click with each other in spite of their rivalry.

 

He grins so much it hurts his cheeks, "You promised me yakiniku today. I want extra since we won the match!"

 

"Figured you would say that," Kuroo replies. Then a sound of chair creaking is heard from the other side of the line, and a huge yawn follows suit. "But well, today is your day, so I'm going to heed to your ridiculous and selfish request despite myself."

 

"For real?!" Bokuto screams in excitement. A girl in Ubugawa uniform, who's walking from the opposite direction, jumps out of surprise. Bokuto mutters a garbled apology.

 

"Yeah. Just for today, though. Cherish it while you still can, you hear me?"

 

"Bro, you're the best bro ever! I lwub you~!"

 

"I know, I know, 'I'm the best. I'm awesome, you love me, and I love you back. Best bro forever, wohoo~'" Kuroo deadpans. "Anyway, is Akaashi coming? I'm bringing Kenma along."

 

"Yeah, I asked him this morning. He said he's free today."

 

"That makes four of us. Since it's probably going to take you guys to get ready…" Kuroo's voice trails off. A hiss escapes him, then he asks, "Say, the usual place at 3-ish?"

 

"Yeah, sure. No problem," Bokuto nods even if Kuroo can't see him.

 

"Great. See you, then."

 

"Smell you later~"

 

After Bokuto bid Kuroo goodbye, he goes through his inbox. Ogano rambles something silly on their chat group. Kuroo is online a second later, replying to Ogano's texts with his sassy retorts. Coupled with Gora's almost nonexistent wits, it's only the matter of time before Ogano gets roasted. Bokuto keeps his eyes glued to the phone, unaware of the presence of an Alpha within the vicinity until a feminine voice calls out.

 

"Hello, there, gorgeous."

 

Bokuto snaps his head up, stops dead in his track and sees an Alpha girl standing right in front of him, her hands in the pockets of her school jacket. The Alpha has her wavy long dark hair covering one of her golden eyes. She wears a yellow sweater underneath Ubugawa's black jacket and a pair of black socks up to her knees.

 

Confused, Bokuto only manages to wrangle "Uh, hello?" out of his throat.

 

She approaches him. "I saw your match just now. Congratulations on your winning. It was really a good game," she says.

 

"Uhm, thanks?"

 

"Your last spike—it was very spectacular. Strong. Powerful. I had no doubt that no one could receive that."

 

"Nah, it's just—I caught them by surprise, that's all." Bokuto rubs the nape of his neck, feeling bashful when he was praised by the girl although he has no idea why. He loves praises, and yet an odd vibe radiating from her makes his skin crawl. "If they saw that coming, they would've been able to pick it up. Your school is pretty strong."

 

She hums, her smirk growing wider. "Not only you're strong, you're humble too. Very admirable."

 

He blinks.

 

"Allow me to make my intention clear here." The Alpha takes another step forward. Bokuto's heart thumps louder. It's ridiculous to feel cornered even though there's no wall behind him, but essentially that's what she's making him feel.

 

The Alpha runs a finger down Bokuto's chest. Then she toys with the zipper of his Fukurodani jacket. He gulps as she whispers against his throat, "I'm sure you've realized I'm an Alpha by now, and you, boy, have caught my interest. Your strength, your spirit, your presence—they're enticing me. Rare. Precious. Such a beautiful Omega like you should be cherished, loved and protected. If you let me, my beautiful Omega, I won't only make you feel special, I'll take you to paradise."

 

A dry hard lump in Bokuto's throat swells. He swallows it, but nothing eases his nerves as the Alpha trails her fingers up his jawline, golden meeting golden in an intense stare. Her scent, sharp and strong, the one that reminds him of a poisonous flower, grazes his nose.

 

An alarm blares inside of him. Bokuto pushes her away as gently as possible and bows.

 

"I'm sorry, I have to go!" he shouts and flees, rendering her speechless.

 

Bokuto doesn't stop running until he sees the changing room. He flings the door open, relieved to see his teammates there. They have the similar shocked expressions on when they take a look at his face.

 

"Bokuto-san, are you alright?" Akaashi asks, being the closest one the door, "You look pale."

 

"Akaashiiiii!!!" Bokuto rushes to him and clasps his shoulders. "It was so scary! I thought I was gonna be eaten alive."

 

"Eaten?" A note of confusion is obvious in Komi's and Onaga's tones.

 

Bokuto starts to gush out in panic, hands flailing around, "There was this girl—an Alpha, she—she, uh, talked to me and praised me and told me strong and beautiful and wanted to show me paradise and—"

 

He hasn't even finished his story when Akaashi catches his wrists. Bokuto is taken by surprise. Akaashi's long fingers are firm, just a fraction beneath painful. His green eyes darken. There's a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Did she hurt you? Did she force herself on you?"

 

"Uh—oh, not really," Bokuto gives a few rapid blinks, "Not to that extent, I think. But—but she offered to court me."

 

It isn't enough to calm Akaashi down. In fact, his scent grows stronger—it's no longer the calming scent of a forest after a light drizzle. No, his scent is akin to a storm in a forest as if all scents in the woods—burnt and damp woods, dried and fresh leaves, a fragrance of poisonous flowers, musk of both muddy and hard grounds—brewed together into one.

 

Bokuto shudders.

 

"Calm down, Akaashi," Washio suddenly interjects from the locker, passing a box of onigiri, brought by Shirofuku, to Komi. "He said he's fine, didn't he?"

 

That snaps Akaashi out if it. He releases Bokuto, wide-eyed. "Oh, I'm sorry."

 

"It—it's alright," Bokuto reassures.

 

"We can't leave Bokuto alone after all," Sarukui says suddenly, in an effort to lift the awkwardness in the changing room. He adjusts the collar of his Fukurodani jacket and peeks into the box Komi is holding. He takes one onigiri. "Alphas are easily attracted to him once they see him playing. We need to keep an eye on him, possibly twenty-four seven."

 

"Saru, I don't need a bodyguard! I can take care of myself," Bokuto counters.

 

"It's getting worse," Washio agrees, "It's been only a week since his presentation—I've stopped too many Alphas from trying to take advantage of him to count. At this rate, it's going to be very difficult to keep him protected."

 

Bokuto deflates. "Sorry."

 

"Let's not talk about his sudden disappearance during the lunch break to reject all those losers," Komi says around a mouthful of onigiri, "Because it's going to take forever—no, two forevers to discuss it."

 

"Stop talking like I'm not here!" Bokuto protests.

 

"Ah, I heard some of the Alphas of my year trying to take their chances with Bokuto-san," Onaga pipes up. He accepts an oginiri when Sarukui offers him. He sighs, "I did tell them that Bokuto-san isn't interested in having a mate at the moment. I have no idea if that worked, though."

 

"You did that for me?!" Bokuto cries. "I'm so touched. You're the best pup ever, Omonaga!"

 

"Y'know," Konoha sighs, hands on his hips, "I know I shouldn't be saying this given the situation, but this is getting on my nerves. It's really unfair."

 

"What is?" Bokuto asks.

 

Konoha flings an arm to jab a pointing finger in Bokuto's direction. His Fukurodani jacket, tied around the waist, sways as he pivots around. "You got too many confessions from pretty girls. Kobayashi-san, Nakamura-san, Suzuki-san—even the most beautiful girl in our school, Noyamano-san takes interest in you. That's so unfair. It's like you're rubbing my miserable, lonely life in my face. I want to receive confessions from beautiful girls too. I need a beautiful girl in my life!"

 

"If you can stop being a tsundere all the time, it'd be easier to get a girl, y'know," Komi throws in and steals Sarukui's onigiri, "Tsunderes are cute, but they can be annoying, too."

 

"Shut up, I'm not a tsundere!" Konoha objects and ignores Komi's eye roll, "Whoever told me playing volleyball would get me girls in no time was a fucking liar. I was tricked! Fuck you, some faceless man!!!" he shouts at no one in particular.

 

"Wait, you play volleyball because of that?" Sarukui inquires, surprised. "That's lame, coming from you."

 

"Maybe it's time to change our wing spiker," Washio deadpans. "Bokuto, Akaashi, what do you say?"

 

"We can try asking Yamiji-san," Akaashi says at last, with a straight face.

 

Konoha turns pale. "Don't!"

 

Bokuto erupts in laughter. Everything that dragged him down has disappeared in the light of Konoha's dissatisfactions. Bokuto could have snapped at Konoha back, saying he's being ungrateful for the quiet life he's blessed with. Then again, he realizes nothing good will come from that but a strained relationship, so Bokuto opts not to take Konoha's complaints to heart.

 

"Jokes aside, we need to do something about this somehow," Sarukui remarks. "We can't come to the rescue every time someone attempts to cross the line. They're getting bolder now. They even slipped their letter in our clubroom. The security of our clubroom is in jeopardy here."

 

"Told you, they aren't going to stop unless Bokuto gets himself a mate," Komi answers. He slings the bag over his shoulder after he finished his and Sarukui's onigiris, and pulls the sleeves up to the elbows, ready to leave. He gives Bokuto a look. "I know you hate this, but you have to find someone to save yourself from all the troubles. Just pick someone to court and be done with it."

 

"I can't just do that," Bokuto whines. "I don't even know them. How do you expect me to accept them? Plus, we have the InterHigh prelims. I don't have time for this. I need to practice, practice and practice! I haven't gotten my straights right yet!"

 

"It doesn't have to be real. Just a temporary relationship to tone everything down, that's all," Komi suggests, "You can find someone who you know and make a deal with them, courting you until a certain period. Then you can go separate ways. All you need to do is hang around together like a couple. You don't even have to show affection in public if you don't want that—it's not like people can demand that from you. Hell, you can even make deal with someone in our club and—uh huh."

 

That particular tone from Komi rings an alarm in Bokuto. From experience, that tone spells trouble. The one that's possibly spiraling the club—or his life in another direction.

 

"Komi-yan, I don't know what you're thinking, but you better banish that thought now," Sarukui warns.

 

"Hey, it's not like I'm plotting something evil," Komi defends himself, insulted.

 

"I beg to differ," Konoha intervenes, finally taking the last onigiri from the box. He returns the box to Akaashi. "Nothing good comes after that 'uh huh.'"

 

"I… don't understand," Onaga mutters, confused.

 

"Last time he said that we ended up having to clean the school toilets for a month, caught red-handed for attempting to steal the answer scheme of the final exams," Washio offers. "We got away from getting suspended all thanks to Akaashi. I still have no idea how he did it, though."

 

"It was a very long discussion," Akaashi admits, with a weary sigh.

 

"C'mon, it wasn't that bad, right?" Komi grins.

 

"Komi-yan."

 

"Fine," Komi huffs after a glance at Sarukui's face.

 

There's a knock on the door, and their coach walks through the doorway. "How long are you going to stay here? We're going to have a meeting later. Move along. Time to gather with everyone else. Bokuto, stop gawking and get moving already."

 

"Ah," Bokuto recovers and scurries away to get his bag, perched on the floor near the locker, next to Akaashi's. "Yes. Okay. Sure, just—uh, just a minute."

 

Everyone makes to shoulder their bags, except Komi, who's standing still, with a suggestive grin on his face, the one that reveals his white teeth. Bokuto notices Komi's strange behavior and opens his mouth but Komi beats him to it by saying, "Coach, Bokuto and Akaashi are courting now," aloud, unruffled, sudden, that it takes everyone by surprise.

 

His words hang in the room, heavy and unexpected. Everything falls silent.

 

Yamiji hasn't uttered a word for a solid five seconds. He scrutinizes Bokuto and Akaashi, his glasses glinting. Then he tells them, matter-of-factly, "Congratulations, then. Akaashi, take care of him. Bokuto, don't let your courtship distract you from the tournament. And be safe, both of you. Now it's time to gather. Chop chop!"

 

Once their coach leaves, while they're digesting what just transpired, Komi's words set in Bokuto, slow and loud. Combined with their coach's nonchalant acceptance, Bokuto finally snaps out of his stupor and thunders, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, KOMI?!"

 

But Komi is quick on his feet and skips out of the room, with loud cackles and the half-eaten onigiri he snatched from Konoha's clutch in that brief second, "You're welcomeeeeee~!"

 

"KOMI!!!" both Bokuto and Konoha scream in unison.

 

Too busy trying to catch him, Bokuto fails to hear Akaashi's 'Bokuto-san, your bag' floating behind him.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, many thanks to my awesome editor, Foxyena~!!!

 

 

"Welcome!"

 

A guttural voice, belonging a middle-aged man with an apron tied around his wide body, greets Bokuto as soon as he slides the door open from the inside of the traditional-looking restaurant. In return, Bokuto yells back 'thanks', with a huge grin.

 

He ducks inside and lets Akaashi close the door behind him. Most tables have been filled by students since it's located near Bunka Gakuen University. The restaurant is noisy with chatter in Japanese. Sweet scents of grilled meat rise from the tables and swirl up in the air, evoking the hunger inside Bokuto.

 

Excited, Bokuto's eyes dart around the crowded restaurant for any sign of Kuroo and Kenma. Bokuto finds them sitting at a low table in the corner. Kuroo has a red-black checkered shirt on, with a huge fish bone illustration printed on the front of the black t-shirt he's wearing underneath. Meanwhile, Kenma seems to be dwarfed by his own beige sweater, hiding behind his PSP.

 

Bokuto calls out to them, "BRO!"

 

"Bro!" Kuroo shouts back.

 

Bokuto is quick to grab Akaashi by the wrist and drags him over to the table. He toes off his shoes before stepping onto the tatami floor. Bokuto takes the seat next to the window to match Kuroo. Akaashi ends up sitting across the table from Kenma. Both Akaashi and Kenma are people of few words, so they opt to give a customary nod to each other as a greeting.

 

"Bro, we won!" Bokuto announces, with a loud thump on the table.

 

The barbecue grill installed on the table rattles at the impact. Kuroo holds out his hands, "Whoa, easy tiger. Yeah, I know that. You told me. Congratulations."

 

While Bokuto cheers loudly, Akaashi, ever the polite one between the two, nods once, "Thank you."

 

The middle-aged man, who greeted him earlier, picks his way towards their table. He cracks a huge grin at them. "Been a while, brats."

 

"Been busy, school just started," Kuroo replies, "The usual, please."

 

"Sure thing, brat," the man nods, with a playful wink.

 

"Wait—" Bokuto shoots his hand up in the air, his face flushed with excitement, "I want an extra serving of meat, please!"

 

The man raises a brow. "Celebrating something, aren't we?"

 

"Yeah, Bokuto's team won a practice match this morning. And to make this celebration more special, he just presented last month," Kuroo points a thumb at Bokuto, who bobs his head up and down rapidly, proud of himself and his winning.

 

"Yep, yep~" Bokuto chirps, "We won against Ubugawa, and it was so cool! And—and I'm now an Omega—uh, not a normal Omega, I think, but Nanase said that's okay, so I think it's all good! Oh yes, I got a new pup, too! His name's Omonaga! He's so cool! I like him so much."

 

"'Long face'? Rather an unusual name," Kenma says for the first time after Bokuto and Akaashi sat at the table. His eyes remain glued to the PSP, though.

 

"It's actually Onaga—Onaga Wataru. Bokuto-san keeps saying his name wrong even though we told him so many times already," Akaashi explains.

 

"Omonaga is Omonaga!" Bokuto argues. Akaashi releases a sigh.

 

The man has a calculating look on, his chin resting on his fingers. He hums, "An Omega? Interesting."

 

Then without warning, without a word, Bokuto feels annoyance radiating from Akaashi. He scoots over closer to Bokuto, front body facing the man and an arm resting on the table, like he's trying to create a barrier between Bokuto and the man. From the angle of his seat, Bokuto can't see Akaashi's expression but from the knotted muscles in Akaashi's jaw, he knows it isn't a pleasant one.

 

"Easy boy, I'm not implying anything here." The man backs away, hands up to appear harmless. Akaashi doesn't move an inch. The man sighs, with a resigned smile, "Maybe I should get your order ready."

 

"Sorry about that, oyaji," Kuroo makes an apologetic look. The man dismisses the apology light-heartedly and lands his huge hand on Akaashi's head, only to make a mess of his hair. Akaashi doesn't say anything, nor apologize for his odd behavior. Then the man leaves the table.

 

"What was that?" Bokuto prods.

 

"Nothing," Akaashi says shortly. No word follows it. Instead, what follows is a shift in Akaashi's posture as Akaashi shrugs off his blazer. Bokuto is about to whisper, 'Akaashi?' in confusion when he throws it over Bokuto's shoulders.

 

Surprised, Bokuto latches his fingers onto the blazer on his shoulder and makes to remove it but Akaashi is faster to stop him. His grip on Bokuto's shoulder is firm. Strong. Bokuto tosses a quizzical look at Akaashi, to which Akaashi replies with a quiet murmur of, "Leave it be."

 

He's perplexed by Akaashi's odd behavior. Bokuto turns to Kuroo for an answer, but then he's met with an amused reaction from Kuroo. Kenma, on the other hand, has a calculating look on for some fleeting seconds before he returns to his game.

 

Since he receives no proper explanation, Bokuto pouts.

 

"C'mon, don't pout like that. You look ugly," Kuroo says jokingly. "Oh yeah, I got a text from Tarako. He told me to watch for your crosses, saying that your cut shot is getting more insane."

 

Bokuto perks up at that, the presence of Akaashi's blazer draped over his shoulders forgotten in the wake of excitement, "You mean, the last cross I did in the practice match? It was a lucky shot, I swear!"

 

"'Lucky shot', my ass. I remember seeing your insane cut in a match against Yagitani High the last Spring Tournament," Kuroo snorts, "It was so fucking tight. Even from the bleachers, I swear I could see their middle blockers turning pale."

 

"Told you, I was lucky—oh, maybe it was because Akaashi was there substituting Yamazaki-senpai. You know, because Akaashi is my lucky charm and all," Bokuto grins. "Akaashi's toss was super perfect back then, so I was like… whoosh and then KABAM!!!"

 

"I don't know whether I should be flattered or insulted to be thought of as a charm," Akaashi says.

 

"Knowing him, it was definitely a compliment," Kenma remarks from behind his PSP. "Though, I must admit that Bokuto-san plays better whenever you're around. It's probably because he needs someone with a rational mind to maintain the game according to his pace and to be honest, you're the only person who's willing to put up with his whims."

 

"I don't know what Kozume's said but I totally agree with him!" Bokuto exclaims.

 

"You can't simply agree to whatever people say without understanding the context, Bokuto-san," Akaashi reprimands. Then he sighs, "I suppose you have a point, though."

 

Kuroo puts up a smirk, "No need to be shy now, Akaashi. Let's be honest here, you allow yourself to be swept into his whims because you enjoy watching our Bokuto playing at his peak. Otherwise, you would've kicked his sorry ass and left him alone."

 

"WHAT?!" Bokuto screams, shocked and whips his head around to Akaashi. Dread slides through him at the thought of Akaashi leaving volleyball and him. It doesn't feel right not to have Akaashi on the court. It's just…

 

He rushes out a string of pleas, "Akaashi, don't leave me alone! Don't stop playing volleyball! Don't quit! I promise I won't annoy you so much! I promise I won't dump paperwork on you! I promise—"

 

"Bokuto-san, I didn't say anything about leaving," Akaashi cuts him off.

 

Bokuto stares at him. "Really?"

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san. I have no idea how you could reach that conclusion," Akaashi says. He reaches out to Bokuto to adjust the blazer that's slipping off his shoulder.

 

"But Kuroo said—"

 

"Kuroo-san's messing with you," Akaashi tells him.

 

True to Akaashi's words, Kuroo has a wider smirk on his face by the time Bokuto flickers his gaze back to him. When Kuroo erupts into laughter, a twinge of irritation flares inside Bokuto, "KUROO BASTARD! I thought we're bros! This is so not cool!"

 

"Nothing is more amusing than teasing my owlet," Kuroo manages between a fit of laughter, hands around his middle. "Your reaction was so cute—I wish I recorded it."

 

"You're evil. I hate you so much," Bokuto huffs.

 

"Oh, you can't, Bo," Kuroo sniggers, "Because I'm one of those few people who're willing to stay behind to practice with you. I'm nice like that."

 

Bokuto bumps his forehead with the table, exasperated. "Urgh, I want to hate you more, but I can't since you said that. Damn you, Kuroo. Akaashi, what to do? What to do?"

 

"You could ask for another extra serving," Kenma suggests casually, leaning away when a waiter comes over placing a tray of their order. He buries his PSP in his crossed lap in favor of eyeing the plates being sorted on the table.

 

"Wait—what the hell, Kenma?! Are you trying to milk my wallet dry?!" Kuroo sounds betrayed. Kenma ignores him with a practiced ease. Then Kuroo notices Bokuto whispering to the waiter, "Wait, Bokuto, don't you dare—no, no! You can't do that—no, no extra serving—it's my allowance we're talking here. No. I mean—BOKUTO KOUTAROU!"

 

Bokuto sticks out his tongue at Kuroo after the waiter left. "Payback for making fun of me."

 

"You should be glad Akaashi's here, or I'd have grilled your face," Kuroo grits his teeth, with a tight smile and fists. Bokuto uses the sleeves of Akaashi's blazer to hide his face, just to mess with Kuroo.

 

"I'd really appreciate it if you could stop threatening Bokuto-san," Akaashi says as he puts some meats onto the grill. Bokuto immediately brings his attention to Akaashi's hand. The moment the meats touch the hot grill, they sizzle deliciously, beautifully, and the sound is music to Bokuto's ear. The smoky and rich scent wafts into his nose. Bokuto feels his stomach growl in hunger. He licks his lip impatiently.

 

"Akaashi, MEAT!"

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san. It's going to take some time to cook, please be patient."

 

Maybe the nishin soba—a hot noodle with a preserved pacific herring on top—is doing the trick, but Kuroo seems in a better mood. The hot steam puffs over Kuroo's face, and he smiles before he slurps a mouthful of noodles noisily.

 

"Kuroo, the Golden Week," Kenma suddenly says over a cup of cold green tea.

 

"Omph," Kuroo makes a noise around strings of noodles. He swallows them down, takes a sip of his own green tea, and wipes the dribbling liquid with his sleeve. "I almost forgot about that. Say, Bokuto, Akaashi, did your coach mention anything about the Golden Week?"

 

"Apart from confirming the location for our training, no," Akaashi answers as he loads some grilled meats onto Bokuto's plate. He warns, "Careful. It's still hot. And don't forget to eat your rice too."

 

Bokuto's mouth waters. The meats look so juicy. So delicious. Bokuto is weak when it comes to food, especially meat. Risking a burnt tongue, he shoves the meat into his mouth without so much as bothering to breathe.

 

Meat. He wants to cry. Today is definitely his day.

 

"I see," Kuroo takes a small bite of herring, "Our coach probably hasn't informed yours, but I guess it's fine if I tell you this first. You see, Nekoma won't participate the training camp this time round."

 

It gains Bokuto's attention. "Oh? Why?"

 

"We're going to Miyagi Prefecture this time. Apparently, there's a school there that wants to have a practice match with us," Kuroo says, by way of explanation while he puts some meats on top of Kenma's rice despite Kenma's silent protest.

 

"Heeee… Akaashi, where's Miyagi Prefecture? Is it somewhere near Mount Fuji?" Bokuto asks, with his chopsticks between his teeth, gullible.

 

"Mount Fuji borders on Shizuoka and Yamanashi Prefectures, Bokuto-san. Your guess is a far way off."

 

"I know your geography sucks, but that's too much. I'm starting to question the legitimacy of your citizenship," Kuroo jokes.

 

"Hey, I'm Japanese alright! Through and through!" Bokuto stabs his chopsticks in Kuroo's direction, angered.

 

"If I'm not mistaken, Ushiwaka's from Miyagi Prefecture," Kenma pipes up, almost inaudible.

 

"AHHH~! Ushiwaka, that monster!" Bokuto exclaims. He can never forget that monster, or the way he ripped an impressive spike across the court, or the way he leaped in the sky to reach the ball when he saw him playing in the last Spring Tournament. Even his muscular body speaks volume of his powerful spikes.

 

Frustration bubbles up in Bokuto's chest. Ushiwaka—or, Ushijima Wakatoshi, one of the top three spikers, is placed second after Sakusa on his rival list.

 

Then a thought hits him. "Oh, Miyagi Prefecture—I remember! That place is swarmed with susuwatari, right?! Like in that movie—uh, what was it, My Neighbor Totoro?"

 

"Bro, if I didn't know better, I would've thought you were being a dick," Kuroo cackles, amused. Bokuto blinks, confused, the point lost on him.

 

"Are you going to have a practice match with Shiratorizawa?" Akaashi steers their conversation back to its original topic. "A bold move."

 

Kuroo shakes his head. "No, we aren't stupid enough to challenge the number one school in Miyagi. We're having a practice match with Karasuno, and some other schools, if my memory serves me right."

 

"Karasuno? Never heard of them," Bokuto comments. He watches in excitement as Akaashi transfers meats to his plate. When Akaashi pointedly gestures at his forgotten rice with his chopsticks, Bokuto grins sheepishly and begins to eat some rice just to spare himself the lecture.

 

"Word is that Nekoma and Karasuno were destined rivals before. It that has something to do with a legendary match five years ago," Kenma says after taking a very small bite of rice. The rice in his bowl barely has been touched much but from the look of it, Kenma has had enough. Then he exchanges a look with Kuroo, "What was it called again—Battle at the Garbage Dump? I don't remember the name."

 

"Trash or garbage—something like that, I'm not sure. I don't know the details but it seems like our coach's really looking forward to it," Kuroo shrugs, stealing the leftover of Kenma's rice to mix it with his broth.

 

Bokuto is awed, "Destined rival, that sounds so cool."

 

"C'mon, Fukurodani has a destined rival, too. Itachiyama, remember?" Kuroo teases and scoops a spoonful of rice and broth into his mouth.

 

The amazement is replaced by indignant, and Bokuto thumps the table, "Itachiyama's good just because they have Sakusa! Without him, they're nothing!"

 

"Their libero, Komori Motoya, is pretty good too," Kenma throws in.

 

Bokuto puffs his cheeks, "Komi's better."

 

A twinkle of mischievousness returns to Kuroo's eyes. He curls his lips, "Aha, speaking of, I heard from Yakkun that you and Akaashi now are courting. Is that true?"

 

At the mention of that, Bokuto chokes on his own saliva and Akaashi on his green tea. It takes them both a couple of panicked slaps on the chest to relieve themselves of the pressure, and Bokuto snaps his head up at Kuroo.

 

He blanches, "How—who—where the hell did he get that from?"

 

"Your lively libero, of course," Kuroo sing-songs. "You didn't know? Our liberos are bonding behind our backs, claiming that all liberos should be united and all that nonsense. Well, in this case, I kinda welcome it."

 

"KOMI!!!"

 

"Aw, don't get mad at him. He brought us a good news. Man, it felt like it'd been only yesterday I found you hiding behind the bin, and now you already have a courtmate. I'm so proud of you, my little owlet," Kuroo wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. He reaches out and places his hand atop Akaashi's on the table. "Please take care of my owlet. He's my everything."

 

Bokuto swats Kuroo's hand away. "Komi was just playing around!"

 

"Oh my, my, aren't you so easy to get riled up today? You should follow Akaashi's example—he's so chill about it, even if his reaction was pretty funny earlier," Kuroo points at Akaashi.

 

Akaashi is quiet at first. "I like to think it as another harmless prank from Komi-san. Knowing Komi-san, sooner or later, he's going to get bored anyway, so it's better to play along if that's what it takes to have a peaceful life. Plus, there's a chance that this could help solve some problems we're having right now."

 

Kuroo is quick to catch. "Ah, Bokuto's sudden popularity, isn't it? From your tone, it sounds bad."

 

"Enough to give everyone a headache on daily basis," Akaashi agrees around the mouth of his cup.

 

"Akaashi!" Bokuto whines.

 

"So you agree with this courtship?" Kenma inquires, possibly out of genuine curiosity. His scrutiny is as sharp as when he's in a match—analyzing every possible outcome.

 

There's no immediate response. Akaashi's expression is void of emotions and answers. No twitch of body, either. Bokuto wonders if Akaashi is actually raking over his brain for an answer behind that default expression.

 

"Courtship, yes, but it doesn't have to be me," Akaashi replies at last. "As long as Bokuto-san is comfortable and the problems are solved, it can be anyone."

 

Kuroo's smirk threatens to split his face into two. "Tell me, Akaashi, would you agree if Bokuto decided to court one of his secret admirers?"

 

This time, there's a twitch on his brows. Subtle, but Bokuto catches it nonetheless.

 

"Like I said, it can be anyone," Akaashi stands firm, with an undertone of annoyance, "But it'd be nice if he can find someone who appreciates him for who he is, not what he is."

 

"Even if it was just a fake courtship?"

 

"Even that."

 

Satisfaction is apparent on Kuroo's face. He leans away from the table and shifts his weight to his hands on the tatami floor. The smirk is persistent on his face when he speaks, "Ain't that a little selfish of you?"

 

For some reason, Akaashi's face darkens. Annoyance rolls on in waves from Akaashi, and that sets Bokuto on edge. He doesn't like this choking atmosphere. Anxious, Bokuto turns to Akaashi and Kuroo back and forth, before he chooses to face Akaashi beside him and calm him down.

 

"Hey, Akaashi? Uh, don't take Kuroo seriously—he likes messing with you—I mean, me and others, too—Akaashi?"

 

It doesn't work. The utter silence of Akaashi is so heavy as if it has its own presence. The heady of Akaashi's scent overpowers the grilled meat. The nerves bunch up in Bokuto's chest. Since he's at loss, Bokuto takes a strip of meat from the grill and chews it slowly in an attempt to distract himself. He wishes for something to break—something as simple as a cough from the neighboring table to shatter the silence.

 

Fortunately, Akaashi's phone rings. Akaashi takes his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen. With his hands on the table, he pushes himself up to get on his feet and mumbles, "Excuse me, I have to take this phone call," and leaves.

 

Once Akaashi is out of the earshot, Bokuto leans over the table and whispers furiously, "What the fuck was that, Kuroo?! Were you trying to get on his bad side?"

 

"Relax, I was just teasing him," Kuroo dismisses it, with a wave of his hand.

 

"You're going to get yourself killed one day," Kenma mutters, "He might not look like it, but Akaashi can hold a fight if he feels threatened. He's still an Alpha, in case that slipped your mind."

 

"Excuse you, I'm an Alpha too," Kuroo growls, insulted, and his salty scent, similar to that of a sea, thickens in response. Bokuto wiggles his nose, uncomfortable.

 

"I'm aware of that. No need to suffocate us with your scent, Kuroo," Kenma says, sipping on his green tea.

 

"Okay, yeah, alright, I crossed the line. I'll apologize to Akaashi later," Kuroo rubs the nape of his neck after a glance at Kenma's face. Then he recovers, "What are you going to do about it, though?"

 

Bokuto raises a brow, a piece of meat between his teeth.

 

"About the courtship, you idiot," Kuroo huffs, "I have no idea as to why Komi decided to tell such a rumor to Yakkun, but from the way Akaashi explained it, Komi probably did it for a reason. I suspect that the reason of his doing has caused your club many problems."

 

Bokuto frowns and plays with the sleeve of Akaashi's jacket, eyes away from Kuroo. "Yeah, too many Alphas wanted to court me to the point they tried to break in our clubroom. That's why Komi sprung the idea on us—hoping that it would tone everything down."

 

Kenma hums, "Not the best idea but it might work."

 

"Given the situation, I can't see another way, anyway," Kuroo gives a remark. "How about we leave the rumor out of the equation for a minute? Let's say that you're available, do you have anyone in your mind to court at the moment?"

 

"No," Bokuto shakes his head rapidly.

 

"Well, would you mind courting one of your secret admirers, then?"

 

It's the repetition of Komi's question, so Bokuto says, "No."

 

"How about anyone that you know?"

 

Bokuto mulls over it, hard. Then he winces out, "No."

 

"Not even Akaashi?"

 

A pause. It reminds him of Nanase's teasing.

 

"Ohoho, a pause there?" Kuroo coos.

 

That snaps Bokuto out of his daze. He quickly splutters, "No, yes—I mean, no! Definitely not Akaashi!"

 

"Why, though? You two are close. Akaashi's nice and patient and smart and rich. Good-looking too, I must admit—oh, that makes it seven," Kuroo numbers his point with the count of his fingers. "Sometimes he can be scary, but that's just who he is. Overall, he's a good Alpha."

 

"That's why I can't rope Akaashi into this. He's a good—no, Akaashi's the best Alpha out there!" Bokuto shouts.

 

"Your point is…" Kuroo makes a confused look.

 

Bokuto draws his knees to his chest and mumbles into them, "Akaashi's nice and patient and smart and rich and generous and kind and good-looking and the best Alpha, and he doesn't deserve this pointless, temporary courtship. He deserves to be with someone who's nice and patient and rich and has a good look. He deserves a solid courtship—with a certain future awaiting him."

 

Kuroo and Kenma look taken aback by his confession. Then Kuroo sighs, with the faintest of smiles, and there's a flash of emotions swimming in his eyes, just a brief second, before it flickers away, "You're too good sometimes."

 

Bokuto blinks.

 

"Everything good?" Akaashi asks, having returned from his phone call.

 

"Yes," Kenma answers quickly. "It's getting late. We should leave now."

 

"We should. It's painful to see Kenma trying to shrink into himself just to be away from the crowds," Kuroo laughs, ruffling Kenma's hair in a good-natured way even though Kenma's glare is obviously loaded with annoyance. He shifts a bit to dig his wallet out of his back pocket, "Just give me a minute, I have to pay this first—"

 

Akaashi holds up his hand. "It's been taken care of."

 

Bokuto and Kuroo stare at him.

 

"The bill—I've paid it," Akaashi spells out.

 

It takes a while for the information to sink in as Kuroo keeps staring at Akaashi vacantly. Then he asks in disbelief and the quietest voice possible, "For real?"

 

Akaashi nods once.

 

"Yes, my allowance, I get to keep my allowance! Kenma, kitten, I get to keep my precious money! All hail Akaashi Keiji, the best Alpha ever!"

 

"Good for you," Kenma hides behind his PSP again. Akaashi doesn't say a word.

 

"Alright, I have decided!" Kuroo declares, swinging an arm to point in the general direction of Bokuto and Akaashi, "With the power granted by myself and the Internet, from now onwards, you two are courtmates! Congratulations, bro! Now you can do naughty stuff together or whatever, you have my blessing."

 

"WHAT?!" Bokuto explodes, shocked, "What happened to our conversation earlier?!"

 

"Just accept it, you ungrateful brat. Akaashi paid for your dinner," Kuroo scolds.

 

"BRO!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His phone has been buzzing nonstop. Bokuto picks his phone up from the study table, another hand buried in the towel atop his damp head, and sits on the bed.

 

They're texts from his teammates, flooding their group chat.

 

 

 

**Parliament of Fukuros**  
Today, May, 8:07 PM

 

**Cookie Monster Yukie**  
i saw bokuto  & akaashi on the train

 

**Cookie Monster Yukie**  
so a date??? ﾄﾞｷﾄﾞｷ(ﾟ∀ﾟ*)(*ﾟ∀ﾟ)ﾄﾞｷﾄﾞｷ

 

**Cookie Monster Yukie**  
komi was telling the truth, then?

 

 

 

Bokuto frowns at the texts. The towel slips off his head and down to his neck. He scrolls down further.

 

 

**Komi yan yan**  
i didn't expect them to actually do it

 

**Komi yan yan**  
this is interesting

 

**Saru in the Zoo**  
komi-yan, leave them alone

 

**Akaashi**  
we were simply having a dinner with kuroo-san and kozume. nothing is interesting about having a dinner with friends

 

**Konoha the Kitsune**  
alert. akaashi's in defensive mode

 

**Washio-paisen**  
for the sake of the peace of our club, i suggest we drop this topic. immediately

 

**Washio-paisen**  
akaashi's wrath isn't something that i look forward to. plus, i think onaga's mind hasn't prepared for it

 

**my Pup Omonaga**  
is it really bad when akaashi-san is angry?

 

**Konoha the Kitsune**  
oh boy, you have no idea

 

**Cookie Monster Yukie**  
he's appointed as our vice-captain for a reason ☆⌒(≧▽° )

 

 

 

For a second, Bokuto feels bad for his pup—too innocent for his own good. Although Akaashi appears calm for the most of the time, he's known to keep everything to himself, often for a very long period before it becomes too unbearable. And when it happens, Akaashi never erupts like a volcano. Instead, he seethes in silence, his presence more prominent. His glare becomes sharper, cataloging every movement like a predator stalks its prey. His every word loads with anger, so thick it feels like a heavy punch in the gut.

 

Bokuto understands this because he experienced once before. And it wasn't something that he'd love to repeat. He hopes the time where his pup has to witness Akaashi's wrath will never come.

 

 

**Komi yan yan**  
chill, guys

 

 

Komi's nonchalant response irks Bokuto. He quickly types a reply.

 

 

chill, you ass!

 

your joke reached nekoma. kuroo didn't stop teasing me about it, y'know! imagine my suffering

 

give back my peaceful life!

 

**Komi yan yan**  
oho, already? i knew i can trust yaku on this

 

**Komi yan yan**  
yeaaaah, we, the liberos, are the Earth Defense Force! i'm the blue one! HE-YA!!!

**Konoha the Kitsune**  
man, if his joke could travel far that fast, who knows how much damage it could do next

 

**Komi yan yan**  
(´≖◞౪◟≖｀)

 

stop smirking like that! (＃`Д´)

 

**Washio-paisen**  
someone gotta keep komi in line

 

**Cookie Monster Yukie**  
i thought we've established that it's sarukui's job

 

**Saru in the Zoo**  
i thought we've established that no one can control komi-yan

 

**Akaashi**  
point

 

**Komi yan yan**  
i'm my own person! UARGHHH!!! ＼＼٩(๑`^´๑)۶／／

 

 

His mother's voice calling out downstairs lifts his head up. Bokuto springs to his feet and almost trips over a shirt on the floor. He regains his footing and shouts back, "Yes—urgh, yes I'm still up. Coming, coming!"

 

But a text from Komi halts his steps.

 

 

**Komi yan yan**  
btw, you have a big surprise waiting for you tomorrow, captain

 

 

 

Instead of anticipation, Bokuto feels every sense in his body on high alert.

 

 

what surprise?!

 

stop destroying my life, dammit

 

what surprise?!

 

what surprise, dammit?!

 

 

Then again, all he receives from Komi is—

 

 

**Komi yan yan**  
(´≖◞౪◟≖｀)

 

 

 

Anger boils up, and Bokuto screams, "KOMI!!!" into the night air.

 

"Koutarou, you're disturbing our neighbors!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, omonaga means 'long face'
>
>> susuwatari
> 
> cultural joke here. in my neighbor totoro, susuwatari is a bunch of spirits that looks like sootballs and they haunt old houses. so what bokuto's implying is that the houses in miyagi are old and traditional, stark contrast to tokyo where he lives. hence, kuroo's reply. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my greatest appreciation for my beta-reader, Foxyena ♡ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

 

 

Bokuto can't focus on the morning practice. Komi's surprise occupies his mind so much he can't even hear Akaashi's voice when he tosses the ball at him, or when Akaashi warns him about the ball flying in his way. Unamused by the lack of concentration, their coach calls him out to stand on the sideline.

 

Annoyed, Bokuto scuffs his shoes on the floor and snorts, "Stupid."

 

His walk to the shoe locker is oddly quiet. People are staying away from his path. Glances are thrown in his way, followed by a stream of whispers. Routine, routine, routine. Bokuto ignores them all.

 

Confession letters are found inside his locker. It isn't as stuffed like usual. Bokuto raises a brow. He digs them out along with his indoor shoes.

 

A guy, with curly blonde hair and small eyes, suddenly shows up and rests his side on the locker next to his. Bokuto heaves a sigh.

 

The guy begins, "Hey, I heard that—"

 

Konoha shouts over him, "Oi, get your sorry ass moving already, dumbass."

 

Bokuto spares him an apologetic smile and scurries away. Konoha mutters a snide remark under his breath. Bokuto is positively sure that isn't meant for him.

 

From afar, his classroom is actively loud. Some people are seen hanging out on the corridor. Others are in the classroom. Few are blocking the doors.

 

Once Bokuto walks through the doorway, though, they become silent. Stares are boring into his being. Although he's gotten used to attention, this feels too much. They keep staring at him unabashed. It's like he's an alien—an owlish alien.

 

He shuffles to his desk and Konoha to his own desk at the front, albeit Konoha's steps are bit slower, thinking process shown on his face.

 

As soon as he sits down, the Beta sitting in front of him turns around to him in the seat. His brown eyes, half hidden by his long curly fringes, are glittering when he says, "Hey, Bokuto, don't you think it's about the damn time to announce it to our class at least?"

 

Bokuto is confused, "Announce what?"

 

"Dude, seriously, playing the fool now?" the Beta asks back.

 

"The fool—what, no, Kumakiri, I don't understand what you're talking about."

 

Kumakiri gives him a look. "I mean, the one that claims you and—" but he's brought short by the appearance of their homeroom teacher in the doorway. He turns around again and gives a wink over his shoulder, whispering, "Later."

 

Bokuto stares dumbly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, he never has a chance to talk to Kumakiri about it. Kumakiri has his own circle of friends, loud and modest. Meanwhile, Bokuto prefers to stay with someone he's familiar with, namely Konoha even though the blonde likes to pretend grumpy around him.

 

By the time the lunch bell rings, they go separate ways, Konoha to the rooftop joining the rest of the volleyball member club and Bokuto to the famous confession tree near the baseball field. He sends Akaashi a text to buy him yakisoba bread while waiting for his secret admirer to show up.

 

The owner of one of the letters is surprisingly an Omega—a timid girl, with round glasses and freckles on her face. She's fiddling with his fingers when she confesses to Bokuto. Her bony shoulders are shaking. Her words are tripping over all the place.

 

He doesn't hate the Omega. Can't hate her for the small bravery she summoned to confess her feelings.

 

Bokuto declines the courtship offer. His reasons are explained clearly, one point at a time. His voice is calm, too calm Bokuto almost doesn't believe it's his own voice, even if it's his voice box that's vibrating in his throat as he speaks.

 

Tears pool behind the Omega's glasses and yet she's smiling. Bokuto counts it as a win. A painful one, but a win nonetheless. He watches the Omega leave after wishing her good luck. His pocket vibrates. Bokuto fishes his phone out.

 

It's a reply from Akaashi.

 

"KOUTAROU-KUN!!!"

 

Bokuto looks up from his phone. He barely catches a blur of brown and gray before he's suddenly slammed against the tree. A groan escapes him. His hands are in firm grips at the either sides of his head.

 

He cracks an eye open. "Nishimura?"

 

Nishimura's face is pinched. His ragged breaths are warm against Bokuto's cheek. His blue eyes are glinting in the shadow. The sharp scent, resembling a cologne, rolls off of Nishimura.

 

A sign of agitation. Bokuto swallows.

 

"Is it true?" Nishimura growls.

 

"Wh—what?"

 

"You and that bastard."

 

"Who?"

 

"Akaashi."

 

"Huh?"

 

"You and that bastard Akaashi—" Nishimura explodes at last, "I heard that bastard is courting you, is that true?!"

 

Bokuto blinks. _Akaashi courting_ —and then it occurs to him. _KOMI!!!_ One of these days, he's going to spike a ball into Komi's face.

 

Nishimura's grips on his wrists are growing stronger. His nails dig into Bokuto's skin. Bokuto winces in pain. It misses from Nishimura's hearing as he continues to growl out, "Why him?"

 

"Nishimura—"

 

"Why that bastard, why not ME?! I'm far greater than him! I'm a captain, dammit! I can lead people. Can lead you. Can bring you a good life. Not like him. Akaashi's nothing—he doesn't even stand out. His scent is too weak. His body is smaller than mine and yours, and he's so fucking quiet like a Beta! He can't even lead you and your club, following you around like a lost puppy. How can you expect him to give you a good life?! He's not a real Alpha—"

 

Bokuto sees red in that instant second, and he headbutts Nishimura, hard.

 

In pain, Nishimura releases him, his hand going to his forehead. He blinks a few times, shakes his head and then rasps out, "Kou…tarou-kun?"

 

_Fuck,_ it hurts like a bitch. It rings too. His head throbs painfully, but it's nothing to compare with the swirling emotions in his chest. They feel fucking hot. Scorching. Unbearable. Unforgivable.

 

Bokuto grits out through his clenched teeth, unable to contain his anger, "Don't you fucking dare badmouth Akaashi like that in front of me! Akaashi is far, far, far better than you, dammit—he's the most real Alpha out there. You can't hold a candle to him!"

 

Nishimura reaches out for him. "Koutarou-kun—"

 

"DON'T!!!"

 

Nishimura freezes. Bokuto storms off.

 

He marches to the rooftop. People cup their noses whenever he nears them. Maybe his scent is overpowering the corridor, Bokuto doesn't know, doesn't care either, too angry to care about it. He can't even recognize his own scent anyway.

 

Bokuto kicks the door open. "Akaashi, where's Komi—"

 

Everything flies out of his head in that instant, surprised to see Konoha and Komi climbing Washio's torso, who seems to struggle to keep his phone out of their reach. Bokuto blinks, anger was forgotten, "What's happening here?"

 

"Washio-san has been chatting with a cute girl," Onaga supplies around the straw of his milk.

 

"What—no way, man! I wanna see too!" and Bokuto joins Konoha and Komi in the quest of snatching Washio's phone.

 

Washio pushes at Bokuto's cheek. "Wait—"

 

"Aw, c'mon man! We're best bros!" Komi whines.

 

"Gimme your phone!" Konoha growls, hands clawing at Washio's sleeve, "Let me destroy your budding romance. You're not allowed to be in a relationship with a cute girl. Not on my watch!"

 

"Wait, Konoha—no, Komi, stop it!"

 

Akaashi sighs, "Sarukui-san, if you'd please."

 

Sarukui loops his arms around Komi's wrist and pulls him away before he manages to make a grab of the phone. Not one to be thrown around, Komi thrashes in Sarukui's strong hold. Sarukui buries his nose in Komi's hair and reprimands, "Komi-yan."

 

Komi goes limp instantly. Begrudgingly.

 

Which only Konoha and Bokuto who are left in the quest. Bokuto is baited by Akaashi with food, "Bokuto-san, your yakisoba bread."

 

"Ah, YAKISOBA BREAD!!!"

 

"What the fuck, Bokuto?! You ditch me for bread?!" Konoha screams, imprisoned in Washio's strong arms, "Fuck you, man!"

 

"Food over Konoha~"

 

"Go to hell!"

 

"Bad kitsune," Bokuto tut-tuts around the bread. He makes an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction when noodles and bread slide down his throat. Konoha wrinkles his nose.

 

Komi settles comfortably on Sarukui's lap despite himself. He munches on a sandwich stolen from Sarukui's lunch box and grumbles, "C'mon, Washio, let me see her profile picture."

 

"Sorry, Komi, I can't. I don't have her permission." Washio scrolls down his phone.

 

"No need to be a gentleman with us. What she doesn't know doesn't hurt her," Konoha spits and removes himself from Washio's hold to sit on the tiles next to him. He drapes himself across Washio's thigh to peek at his phone.

 

Washio cups a hand over his eyes. Konoha yells, "Bastard!"

 

"Ah, bad word! Omonaga, cover your ears! Konoha is being a bad guy," Bokuto reaches over and slaps his hands on Onaga's ears. Onaga makes to peel Bokuto's fingers but he's too stubborn, "Konoha, stop tainting my pup! Go away!"

 

Konoha sticks out his tongue in retaliation. Bokuto tries to grab Konoha's tongue but fails. Akaashi frowns disapprovingly, "Bokuto-san."

 

"So you knew her from your otaku forum? Have you seen her face other than the picture she gave you?" Sarukui asks Washio over Komi's head. He doesn't seem to mind when Komi takes the liberty of finishing his lunch box.

 

"Yes, apparently she's new on the forum but has been fangirling for years," Washio answers, eyes on the phone. There's a shade of red on his cheeks, and Bokuto gapes. It isn't something that he gets to see often on Washio. "We—uh, I wouldn't say I've seen her but uh, last year, I saw her cosplaying at Comiket. She was cosplaying, ah, Nao-chan from Charlotte. Cute."

 

"Comiket?" Onaga gasps. "I can't imagine Washio-san going to Comiket."

 

"I couldn't either until I saw Washio-san wearing an 'oppai' shirt. My scary impression of him was ruined in various ways since then," Akaashi knits his brows as he speaks of this.

 

"What the hell, dude?!" Komi complains, "You didn't even say anything about going to Comiket. I wanted to go there too! My brother stole my Gundam collection."

 

"You should've told me, Komi-yan. We could go together if you wanted," Sarukui calms him down. Komi relaxes in his arms. Then his gaze flicks back to Washio, "Are you going to attend the festival this year? I heard it's going to be held on August. We can go in a group."

 

"Ah, that," Washio hesitates. He tries to hide his blush behind his phone, "Well, I'm planning to go with her. Possibly, ah, just the two of us," and his words sort of die at the end.

 

"What the—stop blushing like a schoolgirl, man! That's so not you," Konoha cringes.

 

"Washio's blushing," Bokuto coos, "Akaashi, we should help him."

 

"I can work with our training schedule so it won't overlap your date," Akaashi produces a small notebook from his pocket that contains their training schedule. "Sarukui-san, when's the date?"

 

Washio tries to interrupt, "You don't have to—"

 

Sarukui checks his phone. "Eleventh until thirteenth of August."

 

"—do that… well, that's that," Washio finishes lamely when he sees Akaashi pencil in the date.

 

"We should go and spy on them," Komi suggests in an evil glee-like voice.

 

Bokuto pumps his bread in the air and agrees, "Second that! We can be cosplayers—I can be a super big strong owl and Omonaga can climb on my back because he's my owlet and all! Akaashi, you can be a priest or whatever because you look so normal. And—and we can move from one pillar to another, under the tables and anything, you know, like real spies!"

 

"Bokuto-san, I don't think spies work like that. And you already revealed everything, it's kind of useless," Akaashi tells him.

 

"Akaashi, don't be a spoilsport! You're gonna make my pup sad," Bokuto scolds. Akaashi lets out a resigned sigh.

 

Komi tilts up his head, with a cheeky smile. "Hey, hey, Saru, do you think you have enough money to buy a binocular from Amazon?"

 

Sarukui snaps his eyes wider, alerted, but his smile remains unwavering. "Hm, my money?"

 

Komi gives him the stink eye. "Don't give me that look. I know you got some money left from the last gaming tournament."

 

Instead of answering him, Sarukui hums, indifferent. Peeved, Komi slaps his hand and protests, "Hey, don't ignore me!"

 

"That aside," Akaashi says, pocketing his notebook. "Bokuto-san, I recall that you were looking for Komi-san when you burst through the door. Why was it?"

 

Bokuto stares at Akaashi. Opens his mouth. Closes it. And then looks away as he racks over his brain before everything—confession, Nishimura, insult—floods his mind, and Bokuto shouts, "AH! Yes, Komi!!! Komi, Komi, Komi, my friend, Komi! What did you do?! Did you tell people that me and Akaashi are courting?!"

 

Komi grins dumbly. Tilts his head to the side. And snaps his fingers as realization dawns on him, "Ah, yeah."

 

"What the hell, KOMI?!"

 

"Wait, don't tell me that was the surprise you were talking about?" Konoha inquiries.

 

"Yep." Komi seems to be proud of himself. "I told Fujiwara-chan from the newspaper club last weekend. That girl craves this kind of stories like a real paparazzi. Thought she was useful. Turns out she actually did her work. Good job, Fujiwara-chan! Oh yes, before I forget, SURPRISE, BOKUTO~" he throws his arms in the air, missing Sarukui's chin by a hair's breadth.

 

"One of these days you're going to get pushed off the roof, you know," Sarukui sighs.

 

"Nah, you're gonna save my ass anyway," Komi grins at Sarukui.

 

"Then who's going to save mine?!" Bokuto demands. "I got ambushed by Nishimura. He was so upset by it. I was lucky to get away! But who knows who else is going to ambush me next?"

 

"Nishimura-san ambushed you?" Akaashi is alarmed, "Did he hurt you?"

 

"Wait, wait—Akaashi, no, I'm fine," Bokuto fidgets when Akaashi fusses over him, "Wrong choice of words, it wasn't an ambush or anything. Well, he took me by surprise, but uh, I kind of headbutted him?"

 

"Impressive," Washio comments in amazement, "What happened?"

 

Bokuto tips his head, playing it in his mind, hands folded over his chest. He frowns, "He wasn't satisfied the fact that I chose Akaashi over him. He insulted Akaashi, saying that Akaashi's weak and small and quiet. Nishimura even claimed that Akaashi isn't a real Alpha, so I just—urgh, I got mad so bad, so I headbutted him! Urgh, that bastard—how dare he! I should've punched his face and kicked his balls—oh wait, kicking his balls would be breaking the bro codes since it's an honor thing between guys, so yeah, his teeth. I should've punched him in his fucking perfect teeth!"

 

After he finished recounting the story, everything falls silent. They're staring at him, unreadable expressions on their faces. Bokuto tosses a questioning look. Then, out of sudden, Komi snickers into his hands, "Oh, Bokuto, this is why I love messing with you."

 

It raises some apprehension in Bokuto. "What, what?"

 

"Bokuto," Konoha uncovers his face from his cupped hands, exasperated, "Do you know what you've done?"

 

Bokuto gets more confused.

 

"Well, you," Sarukui lets out a breath and decides to plow through it, "When you did that—I mean, defending Akaashi like that in front of Nishimura, you sort of… confirmed the rumor."

 

It takes Bokuto a few minutes to piece the dots together. The rumor, Nishimura's insults, his anger, Sarukui's point—everything clicks into place, and Bokuto pales at the newly found conclusion.

 

He gushes out, "What—no, that wasn't what I meant—shit, I should explain to Nishimura so he won't take this wrongly. Damn, this is bad, this is baaaaad."

 

"I don't get it," Washio interrupts, "Why do you reject the idea of courting Akaashi? It's not even a real courtship. Do you hate him?"

 

"No! Of course, no!" Bokuto whirls around to Akaashi in rush to get his point across, "Akaashi, I don't hate you, for real. Please believe me, I can never hate you. You're great, your tosses are great too. Please don't abandon me!"

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san. I believe you," Akaashi reassures.

 

"If you don't hate him, you should leave it be, then," Konoha plays with his fingernails casually, as if he doesn't give a damn about the consequences of the rumor, "I noticed you got fewer confession letters today. It must be the rumor. We should take advantage of this."

 

"Wow, really?" Komi is impressed. "You can kiss me thank-you, Bokuto. I'd let you, except on the lips, of course. My lips are sacred."

 

Bokuto puffs his cheeks, "Still."

 

Komi contorts his face into a disapproving look. "C'mon, what's the big deal? Look at your pup, he's okay with it. Hey, Onaga, do you mind if Bokuto's courting Akaashi?"

 

"Uhm," Onaga hesitates, "Bokuto-san isn't my real mum, but I don't mind. Although our age gap isn't large, Akaashi-san's taking care of me in his own way. Plus, no one would disturb our club activity if they were together. So yeah, that's fine."

 

"See, your pup is more mature than you, Bokuto. Learn from him."

 

"Omonaga, I thought you wanted me to find a good and rich daddy for you!"

 

"Akaashi-san's a good person," Onaga points out, "And rich. And the perfect additional to balance you out. No offense, Bokuto-san."

 

"Good point," Sarukui agrees.

 

"Since we've gotten an okay from Onaga, now it's Akaashi's turn," Komi declares, "Akaashi, are you okay with all these bullshits?"

 

Akaashi is silent at first and then sighs, "The damage is done, anyway."

 

"You agree to play along, then?" Washio asks.

 

"Is there any other way?" Akaashi begins, "I know Fujiwara-san and how she does her work. Even though she appears to be alone most of the time, she has connections everywhere. The rumor has probably spread among the third and second-years. It's only a matter of time before it reaches the first-years. Not to mention, there's a high probability that Nishimura-san was convinced that we're courting, and knowing him, he wouldn't shut up about it especially after getting a headbutt from Bokuto-san."

 

Regret is thick in Bokuto's chest. "I'm sorry, Akaashi. I shouldn't have headbutted him."

 

"Things happened, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says, by way of reassurance, "Like what Komi-san pointed out before, this would help us tone everything down—something that we desperately need since the tournament is just around the corner. Also, we often hang out together, so people wouldn't question it as long as we keep it to ourselves."

 

"But, Akaashi, this isn't fair for you. You deserve better, you deserve a real courtship—not the fake one, not with me," Bokuto tries. He hates to put Akaashi in this situation. He hates to rope Akaashi into this nonsense, all because of his carelessness.

 

Akaashi smiles that sweet, enigmatic smile of his, as though it's a personal victory to chalk up another happy ending for Bokuto.

 

He says, "Bokuto-san, you don't have to think about me. Let me be the judge, and we'll figure this out together, okay?"

 

Bokuto stares into Akaashi's green eyes. Stares deep into hues of green. Finds no malice in them, just good intentions and breathes, "Yeah. Okay. Alright," despite himself.

 

"Thank you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi mutters with a smile, almost inaudible.

 

Bokuto blinks, bewildered.

 

"With the power granted by myself and my awesomeness," Komi suddenly springs to his feet, with a pose and all, "I, Komi Haruki, declare you two, Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou, courtmates! Now you may kiss your bride—oh, my bad, I mean, courtmate."

 

"No kiss!" Konoha protests, "Don't flaunt your happiness in my miserable face."

 

"Konoha, don't be a spoilsport. Today is a happy day," Sarukui scolds.

 

"Is it wrong to see my parents happy?" Onaga makes a sad look.

 

"Boo, Konoha, boo," Komi adds.

 

"Just because you're feeling miserable, it doesn't mean the others should feel miserable as well," Washio remarks, and Konoha has had enough.

 

"YOU GUYS CAN ALL GO DIE!!!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update. shit happened.
> 
> yakisoba bread = noodles + bread -> delicious and simple  
> Comiket = like Comicon  
> oppai shirt = t-shirt with large breasts printed on it  
> washio bringing a cute girl to comiket for a date is definitely my headcanon. he deserves some love
> 
> and no, dudes don't kick dudes in the balls. it's an honor thing XDDD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, my eternal gratitude to Foxyena for his marvelous editing. you're my hero °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

 

 

At breakfast one morning, Bokuto sees his Beta mother beaming at him across the dining table. His mother's smile is bright and wide like the sun. Bokuto was often told he has his mother's smile despite the glaring difference in their physiques.

 

Unlike him, his mother's body is small and delicate. Her skin is fair, and her long strawberry blonde hair gives her an impression of an angel. Because she is as eccentric as he is, she lets her black roots grow. It reminds him of Kenma's pudding head sometimes—he suspects it has something to do with their constant financial problem, but he doesn't comment on it.

 

The only traits he inherited from his mother are her unusual golden-colored eyes and loud personality. Those are more than enough for him. Though, regardless of however people paint his mother for being a single mother, he is his mother's son, period.

 

Bokuto takes a seat across from her with a raised brow, "What's with that smile?"

 

Her smile grows wider as she thrusts a plate of a sunny egg and two slices of bread to him, "I heard some nice things about you."

 

"About what?" he asks distractedly, biting the egg.

 

The meal isn't sufficient for his growing body. He's sure his mother is aware of it, too, but neither of them says anything. It isn't a fun topic to discuss in the early morning. Or whenever, for that matter.

 

"About you and Akaashi-kun being courtmates."

 

Bokuto chokes on his bread. He thumps his chest a few times and downs a glass of water to clear his windpipe. Then, he gawks at her, "Wha—what?! Me and Akaaashi?"

 

"It was true, then."

 

"N—no, yes, wait, I mean, it wasn't what you're thinking."

 

"Oh, so you know what I'm thinking?"

 

"Yes, no, wait—Okaa-chan, stop teasing me," he whines.

 

She chuckles and flicks Bokuto's nose. "What did I do to deserve such an overgrown child like you?"

 

"Okaa-chan!"

 

"Alright, alright. No teasing, no teasing," she puts her hands up. Then she folds them on the table as she shifts her weight forward, "I don't know what's your deal with Akaashi-kun, but I expect to have an explanation by this evening. Bring Akaashi-kun over, too. I'll come home early today."

 

Bokuto frowns. "But—"

 

"No buts."

 

"Okaa-chan—"

 

"Na-ah."

 

"I don't think—"

 

"Bokuto Koutarou."

 

That clamps him shut. Bokuto pouts, eyes away, head sinking between his shoulders.

 

A sigh is heard from his mother. There's a clatter of the chair and a pinch on his right cheek. It brings his attention back to his mother. He's met with a fond smile on her face.

 

"I'm not saying that I don't believe you, but it's unfair for Akaashi-kun if we don't listen to his story as well," she explains, "Whatever it is, Koutarou, you're still my baby, and I'll always believe you and your words more than everyone else."

 

It's not an 'I love you,' but it's the closest he can get from his mother. Bokuto understands her issues over the sacred words, due to her past. He never takes it to heart. Her actions speak louder anyway.

 

Bokuto cracks a childish grin, the one that's reserved for his mother only.

 

"Oh, look at the time. I have to go," she notes, glancing up at the clock on the wall ahead of her. She sweeps up her handbag perched on the table, "Do you still have your allowance left? Do you need more?"

 

Just barely enough to survive the day, and his shoes are going to need to be replaced soon. Not that he's going to tell her.

 

Bokuto grins, "I'm good!"

 

She tosses him a calculating look for fleeting seconds, enough to rouse worry in Bokuto, and then musses his hair in a playful fashion.

 

"Okaa-chan!" Bokuto ducks his head away from his mother's evil hands, "It took me ages to do my hair—Okaa-chan!!!"

 

"Alright, alright," she holds up her hands, with a grin etched on her face, "Don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

 

"Roger!"

 

When the doorbell rings, Bokuto rushes to dump everything into the sink, grab his bag and get his shoes. The sun isn't fully up yet—Yamiji reminded them to come practice early. The world is a murky gray, but he can see Akaashi's tired eyes beyond the house gate just fine.

 

"Did you pull another all-nighter again?" Bokuto asks.

 

Akaashi yawns, "It wasn't that late."

 

"Really," Bokuto is skeptical, "Define 'late.'"

 

None of the usual blunt retort from Akaashi, which only means that his usually reliable brain is still clogged in drowsiness. Bokuto takes Akaashi's hand into his own and leads their way to school.

 

Akaashi protests weakly, "I can walk by myself, Bokuto-san. I just don't have enough caffeine in my system."

 

"Yeah? Did you forget to restock your coffee?"

 

"Kind of."

 

It's no secret among the club members, except the freshmen, that Akaashi isn't a human until his second drink of strong coffee. The cat was out of the bag when they saw Akaashi's stock during the last training camp. Konoha was amazed by Akaashi's determination to pack a carton of canned coffees so he could function well. Akaashi claimed it was his morning ritual. Bokuto chalked it up on Akaashi's tendency to pull all-nighters.

 

Bokuto catches a convenience store from the corner of his eye. His brain is quick to do math—he's not a total idiot. Only algebra and calculus mess with his head, among other things, otherwise he can do math just fine. He curses calculus. Alphabets belong to linguistic, not mathematics.

 

In his wallet, he has one thousand yen in bills and a few hundred in change. If he was to buy coffee, there wouldn't be enough for him to get himself some food for the evening practice.

 

He glances over his shoulder. Akaashi is rubbing at his drowsy eyes.

 

Coffee, it is. Just like that, Bokuto pops into the convenience store and buys Akaashi coffee. He pitches the drink to Akaashi who manages to catch it despite the drowsiness.

 

"Bokuto-san?" Akaashi holds up the drink, perplexed.

 

"For you. Not your usual taste, but it'll do, no?" he says with a grin, "A good senpai always takes care of his kouhai."

 

Akaashi eyes the drink before flicking his green eyes back to him. He opens his mouth. Closes it, clutches the drink close to his chest. "Thank you, Bokuto-san."

 

Akaashi's smile is small but genuine and it captures every bit of morning sunlight that's slowly illuminating the world. It's beautiful. It's mesmerizing, and to Bokuto, that's more enough to make his day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And all it takes an ambush from Nishimura at the cafeteria during the lunch break to make his day gloomy. Plus, the curious audience around them doesn't ease Bokuto's nerves. He's hungry, and tamagoyaki, Japanese rolled omelet, the only thing that he can afford for lunch, is going to be sold out soon.

 

Bokuto represses the urge to punch the tennis captain in the face with a great effort. Not because Nishimura is an Alpha and him an Omega, no. It's simply because beating people can cost him a tournament. He can't forsake volleyball for this stupid bastard of an Alpha.

 

"Can you just—URGH!" Bokuto grits his teeth, frustrated.

 

Nishimura keeps a respective distance between them, hands up to appear harmless, "Listen to—hey, Koutarou-kun, listen to me. I don't care about the rumor, and I forgave you for headbutting me. Let's be honest here, it was my fault for badmouthing him. He's your vice-captain, of course you'd think he's the best Alpha."

 

"Who cares about that?! I want to eat!"

 

"If you accept my courtship offer, you'll get to eat whatever you want," Nishimura bargains, taking a foot of step closer to Bokuto, tentative, cautious, "You can have whatever you want, Koutarou-kun. I'll get them for you. Yakiniku, tempura, omeraisu, yudofu—anything for you, my precious Omega."

 

A picture of delicious, luxurious meals springs to the forefront of Bokuto's mind. His stomach growls. He swallows. Nishimura drives a hard bargain.

 

"Koutarou-kun." Nishimura reaches out for him. The closeness is terrifying. Bokuto backs a step away.

 

"Keep your hand to yourself, please."

 

A familiar voice brings Bokuto's head around. It's Akaashi, and his green eyes have that deep, heated look that drills all the way through Bokuto's chest. His scent blankets the cafeteria like the mist in the early morning in the forest. Mysterious. Thick. It's impossible to breathe. Bokuto fights to stay calm and nonchalant, but he fails when Akaashi's brows furrow and his eyes flicker.

 

The heated look is replaced by reassurance. Akaashi is aware of his discomfort. The scent thins out, just a little. Bokuto feels much better.

 

"What'd happen if I didn't?" Nishimura pushes and his cologne-like scent thickens in response, on high alert.

 

"You'd be a disgrace to the Alpha community. A thief. A weak Alpha for you unable to find yourself an uncourted partner," Akaashi doesn't flinch despite his thinning scent, "Bokuto-san and I are courting each other. Our courtship is consensual, therefore it's solid and legitimate. I have the right to protect him and go Alpha on you if necessary."

 

Nishimura growls darkly, "Go Alpha on me? Fine, let's have a brawl here and we'll see who weeps on the floor!"

 

Akaashi's face is expressionless but the swirling emotions in his eyes express considerably more. His natural scent is no longer blanketing them. Instead, it becomes sharper, as if  changing into needles, prickles and thorny vines.

 

Immediately, Bokuto recognizes this scent. It's a fortress. A sign of possessiveness. Akaashi is ready to attack Nishimura. An alarm blares inside Bokuto. This won't benefit them. He doesn't care who wins or loses. If the fight breaks, both parties will face the consequences. Akaashi could be suspended. He has to do something before things get bad.

 

Quick on his feet, he rushes to Akaashi's side and lands a large hand on Akaashi's shoulder. Bokuto says, "C'mon, let's go. He's not worth it."

 

Akaashi doesn't say anything, eyes hard and dark on the other Alpha.

 

"C'mon," Bokuto gives his shoulder a squeeze. He can't lose his setter because of this prick.

 

It works. Akaashi shifts his gaze to him. His eyes are searching, and Bokuto's heart is palpitating wildly under the scrutiny. A sigh escapes Akaashi as he closes his eyes again. The scent evaporates but the tension lingers.

 

He nods once, "Alright."

 

"Hey, are you chickening out now?!" Nishimura challenges, and Bokuto has had enough.

 

"Shut your trap!" Bokuto explodes, impatient and hungry, "You're really, really being a dick right now. Don't you get it? I'm off the market. Get that through your thick skull! Find someone else to be your precious Omega!"

 

"Koutarou-kun—"

 

"And stop calling me by my first name. As far as I'm concerned, Akaashi's only person here who has the right to call me that. He's my courtmate and I'm his. You hear that? I'm not yours and will never be yours!"

 

Silence falls. Nishimura gapes, astonished by the bold declaration.

 

Taking the sudden silence as his cue to leave, Bokuto drags Akaashi away from the cafeteria, from Nishimura, from the prying eyes. He keeps their pace fast until they reach the third floor, where at this hour, it's deserted, except for a few students in their classrooms. Then only does Bokuto face Akaashi and release his hand.

 

A beat of silence, then they both say, "I—" at the same time before the synchrony puts a stop to their sentence. Bokuto drops his gaze. Another awkward pause.

 

"You first, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says suddenly.

 

Bokuto hesitates And takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry you gotta save my ass. Again. I didn't actually mean to be a damsel in distress, y'know," he titters at the end of his sentence.

 

"It couldn't be helped. I heard your stomach growling and I thought it could be the end of the world if I didn't interfere."

 

"How does the end of the world have anything to do with my stomach?!"

 

"Everything revolves around your stomach, Bokuto-san. You can't think properly when your stomach is empty," Akaashi pauses with a thoughtful hum, "Well, it's not like you often use your brain anyway."

 

"Akaashi, that's mean!"

 

Akaashi pulls a small smile. "I'm glad that you stepped in at the right time before things took a turn for the worst. That being said though, I apologize for almost losing my control there. I owe you one, Bokuto-san."

 

"Can't afford to lose my setter," Bokuto mumbles, finger rubbing his nose in embarrassment. He clears his throat, chest out,  and hands on his hips, "We—well, it's my job as your senpai, isn't it? I'll always take care of my kouhai."

 

"I'm not calling you 'senpai' if that's what you're aiming for."

 

"Akaashi!" Bokuto whines. And then it occurs to him, "AHHHHH!!! MY LUNCH!!!"

 

"Your lunch?" Akaashi tilts his head, confused.

 

"I was planning to buy tamagoyaki, but then Nishimura bastard showed up—urgh! I bet it's been sold out by now! I hate Nishimura so much!" Bokuto grits out, hands clenching and unclenching in obvious frustration.

 

"If you're worried about that," Akaashi says, and Bokuto finally realizes the plastic bag in Akaashi's left hold for the first time. He chastises himself for missing that for a quite long time. Akaashi produces a bento from the plastic bag. "This is for you."

 

"Huh?"

 

"For the coffee."

 

The coffee— _oh_ , Bokuto recalls. "Eh—no, that was nothing, Akaashi. You don't have to pay me back for the coffee. For real."

 

"I insist."

 

"Akaashi—"

 

A growl from his stomach cuts him off. Bokuto blushes. Akaashi gives him a blank look and says, "Your stomach insists."

 

Another growl and Bokuto can't find a reason to decline Akaashi's offer. The bento isn't anything special; a karaage—fried chicken—bento with tamagoyaki and spinach as the side dishes, a proof that it's a bento bought from the convenience store. The box feels cold in his hand, exposed to the room temperature. It probably tastes bland, too. But to Bokuto, it's a gift from heaven.

 

"But Akaashi, it's yours. I can't," Bokuto swallows, "I can't take your bento."

 

"I have mine. Right here." Akaashi taps his finger against the plastic bag. It sounds solid. Another lunch box.

 

"When—how did you get them?" he asks.

 

Akaashi smirks, "A great magician won't reveal his tricks."

 

"Now you're being a cheeky bastard," Bokuto grins back, his mood is lifted by Akaashi's lame joke. He jerks his head in the general direction of the rooftop, beckoning, "We should go and find the rest. They're at the rooftop, aren't they?"

 

"Yes, we should," Akaashi concedes.

 

When they start walking again, side by side, a memory hits Bokuto, "Oh yes, Akaashi, my mom wants to see you today."

 

"Why?"

 

Bokuto heaves a sigh. "Okaa-chan caught wind of our courtship, so she wanted an explanation. I tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn't have it. She insisted to hear your side of the story. Geez, Okaa-chan can be so stubborn sometimes."

 

"Just like you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi chuckles.

 

"Hey, I resent that!"

 

Akaashi ignores that and fishes his phone out. He slides and taps his thumb on the screen a few times before relaying to him, "I'm free today. I can go to your house after evening practice."

 

Bokuto wrinkles his nose, in hopes that Akaashi would decline it. He's always been self-conscious of his house. That's why he seldom invites his friends over. Furthermore, this will be Akaashi's first visit.

 

It isn't like he's ashamed of his house. Never. Actually, he loves it—gifted by his grandmother right after his birth, the house is his childhood. It has seen all the happiness and sorrows in Bokuto's life. The small house is littered with memories, both good and bad.

 

Bokuto simply concerns about the comfort of their guests. His house is small. It can be suffocating for those who are used to open space, and Akaashi's family is rich.  That should be hinting enough at his living preference.

 

"You don't have to do that. I'll talk to Okaa-chan. Maybe I can convince her."

 

"It is only fair to hear the story from both sides, no?"

 

Bokuto can't argue with the truth in those words. He bites his inner cheek and acquiesces, "Okay. Yeah. Fine. I'll text her that you're coming today."

 

When Bokuto opens the door to the rooftop, he knows something is wrong at one glance.

 

No, it's not the weather. Sunlight hides behind clouds, which stretch loosely in the blue sky. There's no wind either, and yet Bokuto feels chilly all over. It's the sitting arrangement of his teammates that gives him a shudder.

 

First of all, Konoha is nowhere to be seen. Secondly, Komi and Sarukui aren't sitting next to each other, and that's just… wrong.

 

With a gulp, Bokuto keeps himself together and greets his teammates. Washio is the only one who returns his greeting while Onaga, in the seiza-style—one leg underneath the thigh of the other, buttocks on the heels, spine erected uptight, fists on the knees—is trapped between a seething Komi and nonchalant Sarukui.

 

"Where's Konoha-san?" Akaashi asks.

 

"Got a phone call from school. His little brother got his ass in trouble again," Washio answers, a cream puff midway to his mouth.

 

"Which one?" Bokuto pipes up.

 

"The Alpha one, obviously," Komi spits, venom thick in his words, stabbing his chopsticks into his rice at every word, "That fucking bastard. A typical Alpha. Go die."

 

If Komi's harsh language isn't a clue enough to his foul mood, then Bokuto doesn't know what it is. Bokuto sneaks a peek at Sarukui, but the latter opts to chew a Vienna-shaped octopus in silence, slow and steady, eyes on the floor.

 

"Uhm," Onaga starts hesitantly, hand raising up cautiously, "Shouldn't his brother be more responsible since he's an Alpha? I mean, Konoha-san is a Beta. Even though Konoha-san is the eldest, the head of the family falls to his Alpha brother, right?"

 

Komi scoffs, "Because that bastard is a fucking Alpha, he thinks he has the right to be an asshole and makes Konoha wipe his butt for him. Y'know, the privilege of being a goddamn Alpha."

 

"Of course, this doesn't apply to all Alphas," Washio quickly adds, with an even tone as not to rile Komi up. Akaashi bows his head, not quite a nod and yet affirmative enough to be an agreement. Komi snorts but doesn't deny it, either.

 

The door is flung open, and Shirofuku appears in the doorway, "There you are! I've been looking for you~"

 

"Wargh, Cookie Monster Yukie has appeared! Hide your food!!!" Bokuto shouts on instinct, sweeping his bento up to his chest like a dragon with its rather pathetic hoard.

 

Shirofuku makes an unimpressive look, with one arm akimbo, and jabs a finger into Bokuto's hair whorl, hard and quick.

 

Bokuto screams, hands atop the hair whorl, rolling on the floor. "Yukie, that hurts! Like a lot! Are you trying to give me diarrhea?!"

 

"Stop saying like I'm a glutton. It's not nice—ah~ Onaga, are those croissants?! Can I have a taste?"

 

"Yes." Onaga passes her one. Without so much as a breath, she devours the croissant in one swallow. Onaga drops his jaw. Meanwhile, Akaashi and Washio don't bat an eye, used to her unbelievable appetite.

 

"Yummy, Onaga! Thank you~" Shirofuku ignores Onaga's surprised reaction and Bokuto's endless cries, who seeks comfort from Akaashi, "Anyway, Komi, I need to discuss something with you."

 

"About what?" Komi asks around a tempura.

 

"Next week is the Golden Week, right? I just realized that your heat happens to fall on the same week. I need to make sure that we're prepared for your heat without disrupting our training camp."

 

"Ah, right!" Komi snaps his fingers, alerted, "Damn, I totally forgot about that."

 

"I knew you'd forget, so I penciled it in my calendar. But next time, keep track of your heat. I'm not your mom, y'know." Shirofuku flicks her dainty fingers on Komi's forehead in a playful manner.

 

"You're too chubby to be my mom."

 

Irritated, Shirofuku swings her leg to kick him in the head, but Komi dodges it. He takes shelter in the shade of Onaga's shadow and sing-songs, "Missed~ oh, by the way, you look so feminine today. Strawberries."

 

Out of pure instinct, she yanks her skirt down, her face bright red. Komi chuckles, only to be poked sharply in the side by Washio with his long hand. He yelps with pain, palming over the sore spot.

 

Washio scolds, "That's rude, Komi."

 

"Thanks, Washio. You're a real gentleman," Shirofuku grins, "Anyway, come here, you little rascal. We need to discuss your training schedule. Ah, Sarukui, too, since you're his—"

 

"It's none of his business," Komi is quick to cut her off. Bokuto recognizes the rage in his voice, and he's pretty sure everyone does too, including Shirofuku.

 

Her unsure glance alternates between Sarukui and Komi, who has left the circle, no glance is spared with an intention of bringing the discussion away from Sarukui's hearing. She hesitates, "Uhm."

 

"It's okay. You should go to him," Sarukui reassures softly, smiling, and Shirofuku joins Komi despite herself.

 

Bokuto stares at the soft curl of Sarukui's lip. The grin looks rather genuine even though it's small, as if Komi hadn't just rejected him out loud. Bokuto feels a brief stir of worry. He tries, "Hey, Saru. Are you—are you and Komi okay?"

 

Again, Sarukui's smile doesn't falter. Sarukui says, "We're great," and oddly enough, that smile and promise washes Bokuto's doubts away.

 

 _Yeah_ , he thinks, _they are okay._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The walk back home is quite unnerving for Bokuto. His house looms over them. Daunting. Haunting.

 

The house has two floors. The upper floor consists of three rooms; his mother's and his own, and the smallest room was changed into his mother's working space. The ground floor has three rooms as well, divided by a narrow hallway that leads to the south. The living room is furnished by a kotatsu—a low, wooden table frame covered by a heavy blanket, upon which a table top sits, and equipped with a heat source built into the table itself—and a small table for the television. Towards the south, the kitchen isn't too big either, just enough to accommodate a table for two and some basic necessities. Fortunately, the bathroom is able to fit a bathtub in. The bathtub is a luxury Bokuto loves to enjoy, especially when his body is sore from training.

 

So, yes, his house is way too small to entertain a guest. Bokuto feels a twinge of worry.

 

"Is your mother already at home?" Akaashi asks, jarring Bokuto's brooding thoughts.

 

"Uhm," Bokuto checks his phone, "No. Not yet. We—uh, we can wait for her inside."

 

"Alright."

 

Bokuto unlocks the door and steps inside while Akaashi follows close behind with a greeting of 'sorry for the intrusion,' under his breath. They take off their shoes and change into the indoor slippers before Bokuto leads Akaashi to the living room.

 

The day isn't too cold, so Bokuto doesn't switch the kotatsu on—bills are expensive nowadays. He dumps his bag by the kotatsu and rushes to the kitchen for a drink. Luckily, they still have some juice left in the refrigerator. Bokuto grins to himself all the way back to the living room with a glass of juice.

 

"Sorry if you feel a bit suffocated," Bokuto begins, sitting across from Akaashi. He places the glass in front of Akaashi.

 

Akaashi hums thoughtfully. His green eyes are drinking everything in. He smiles when his eyes fall on the pictures by the television.

 

"It's all right. Your house feels homey. I like it."

 

A swell of pride fills Bokuto's chest to hear a compliment on his house from Akaashi. Flustered, Bokuto throws his gaze away from Akaashi and makes an attempt to change the conversation.

 

"Well, uh, Akaashi, do you think we can get a cheerleader squad to cheer us for the Interhigh? Kumakiri knows Wacchi from the music band. Maybe we could convince them to collaborate with the cheerleader squad," Bokuto suggests enthusiastically. Excitement makes him bounce on the cushion. He can picture the cheerful and awesome atmosphere the cheers create in his mind, so vivid he almost can hear the sound in his ears.

 

"We could, yes, but we have to take their expenses into account since it's a request from us," Akaashi counters, "Bear in mind that our fund is barely enough to cover the training camps. I don't think I need to remind you that we have a number of training camps lining up in front of us, yes?"

 

"But Akaashi, Akaashi, Akaashi! You're rich! Like super-duper rich! You can sponsor their expenses, right?"

 

"Correction, the wealth belongs to my family, not to me, and I refuse to abuse my family wealth for your selfish request."

 

"It's not selfish, it's for our club!" Bokuto wheedles, his fists landing on the table, "Imagine, Akaashi, that we're on the brink of losing. Imagine that we're losing hope. And then imagine the sound of cheering ringing in our ears, singing to our souls, to drag us out of our despair, to pull us out of our desperation, to light up the fire of hope in us, to lead us to the victory—"

 

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi states flatly, "No."

 

"AKAASHI!!!" Bokuto thumps on the kotatsu in total despair.

 

"Oh my, aren't you two lively?" A feminine voice floats from the front door.

 

"Okaa-chan!" Bokuto scrambles to his feet, not forgetting to gesture for Akaashi to stay, and then sprints to the front door. She's toeing off her shoes when Bokuto greets her. He helps her with the handbag.

 

"Akaashi-kun inside?"

 

A rhetorical question, but Bokuto answers anyway, "Yeah. In the living room. Uhm, Okaa-chan, can you—uh, can you not… torture him? I mean, Akaashi's really, really a nice guy."

 

His mother arches a brow. "Why should I torture him? Don't tell me you two are planning to get married already? Oh dear, I'm not ready to let go of my baby yet."

 

"Okaa-chan, that wasn't what I meant! We are not—urgh! I can't explain this but it's not like that."

 

"I know, Koutarou, I know. I was teasing you," she grins, flicking his nose. His mother turns on her heel and is headed to the living room, "C'mon, before you hurt yourself with all those nonsensical thoughts."

 

Bokuto pouts but falls into step with her regardless.

 

In the living room, Akaashi has changed his sitting posture from the casual to the seiza-style. Traditional. Formal. The aura about him seems to be dropping colder. His natural scent is lingering in the air.

 

It's as if Akaashi is bracing himself for an interrogation.

 

"Well, this is interesting," she notes Akaashi's way of sitting.

 

Amused, his mother arranges her cushion to a vacant spot away from the kotatsu to sit across from Akaashi. After all, the formal sitting should be returned with a proper sitting as well. She mirrors Akaashi's posture.

 

Lost to what he should do in this supposedly casual situation, Bokuto copies them, seated next to her after his mother patted her palm on the spot.

 

"I assume you know why I asked Koutarou to invite you over."

 

"Yes."

 

She smiles, "Then, please. Do enlighten me."

 

As requested, Akaashi recounts the whole thing, from the moment Bokuto returned to school after his first heat to the current day. He does it in a measured cadence, no exaggeration, no pity. Just a plain explanation. It's like he wants to keep some details hushed up for Bokuto's sake.

 

Through the explanation, Bokuto ducks his head into the hunches of his shoulders. Occasionally, he steals glances at Akaashi and his mother, who seem wrapped in the discussion. Akaashi keeps eye contact with his mother. Firm, steady and serious.

 

Bokuto bites back a gasp. This situation reminds him too much of the dramas his mother loves to watch in the late evening where the character asks the parent for their partner's hand in marriage. Another gasp is threatening to leave his lips at the sudden realization. Suddenly, he's aware of the pressure on his heels.

 

"Correct me if I'm wrong," his mother says suddenly, "So you're saying that Koutarou's secondary gender has been causing your club problems since his first heat?"

 

"I wouldn't put it that way, but our training hasn't been able to run smoothly because of those who take interest in your son," Akaashi clarifies, "None of the club members are blaming him for this disturbance. In fact, we're doing our best to address this problem."

 

"So… this fake courtship is one of the solutions."

 

Akaashi is silent at first. From the corner of Bokuto's eye, he catches Akaashi's fists clenching tighter on the knees.

 

"I wish we could come up with better ideas. However, I understand if you're against this idea. A fake relationship is meaningless regardless of the reasons. Therefore, if you disagree, I'll end this fake courtship and come clean to the public that this is all a misunderstanding."

 

"But that can affect your reputation as an Alpha."

 

"This is your right as his mother and guardian," Akaashi stands firm.

 

His mother's eyes are huge for fleeting seconds. Then, the surprised look melts into fondness. She sighs softly, "You're too serious for a boy your age, Akaashi-kun. I wonder how my Koutarou could befriend you. I mean, look at him! He eats like a little kid. A real mess, he is."

 

"Okaa-chan!"

 

"Someone has to wipe his mouth for him," Akaashi adds nonchalantly.

 

"Akaashi!" Bokuto protests, embarrassed and irritated by the fact that his mother and Akaashi are teaming up against him. It’s not fair.

 

"Jokes aside," she continues, "I'm sorry my son has caused many problems to your club even though he's the captain. I wasn't aware of the consequences, since Koutarou chose to keep this quiet from me." At this, she glares at Bokuto.

 

"Like I said, we never blame him for this. It can't be helped that he presented as an Omega," Akaashi reassures, "If anything, you should consider it as a blessing since Koutarou-san has grown to be a strong and respected Omega. It's admirable."

 

Hearing his first name from Akaashi makes his pulse quicken and rush in his ears. Bokuto moves his eyes to the tatami floor. He feels his cheeks become warmer by every passing second.

 

His first name with an honorific. Intimate and yet respectful. It's so Akaashi-ish.

 

"Why, thank you. If this fake courtship is able to help the club in any way, I'll allow it. In fact, I'm glad Koutarou is partnered with a capable person like you. At least I know that you can take care of my son," she grins that wide, brilliant smile, slapping a hand across Bokuto's back.

 

"I'll do my best to keep an eye on him," Akaashi promises. "Please note that this is just a fake courtship. If you find a suitor for Koutarou-san, tell us and I'll be out of your hair in seconds."

 

"No worries, no worries. I'm planning to leave that to Koutarou anyway. His love life, his own choice. So, no suitor for him. Just don't hurt my son and you'll be fine!"

 

His mother's laughter is loud like his own, but Akaashi doesn't seem to be put off by it. Another comment from Akaashi sets his mother off again, and Bokuto notices that Akaashi is pleased by it if his glittering green eyes are any indication. He wonders if the progress of Akaashi's relationship with his mother could backfire on him one day.

 

Bokuto lets out a deep breath. So long as no one ends up in a bloodbath, he counts it as a win.

 

It's getting darker out. Akaashi excuses himself for the night. Bokuto accompanies him until the front gate then leans his side against the steel as Akaashi adjusts his bag strap.

 

"So… we're courtmates now?" Bokuto wants to confirm.

 

"Fake courtmates, yes."

 

"Oh."

 

Akaashi seems skeptical by his short response. He pauses and looks him straight in the eye. "What's on your mind, Bokuto-san?"

 

Bokuto averts his gaze away and rubs the nape of his neck where his scent gland is situated. He mumbles, "Nah, it's just. I saw on dramas that people always start their courtship with a romantic gesture. But, uh, well, since this is a fake courtship, we don't have to do that, do we? I mean, kissing and all those stuff, we do that when we mean it. When it's a real deal, right?"

 

"Well," Akaashi hums, thoughtful, his chin between the index finger and thumb, "I suppose you're right. This is a fake courtship, so we're not obligated to do any romantic gestures."

 

"That's a relief," Bokuto sighs.

 

"But."

 

All of sudden, Akaashi takes Bokuto's hand into his own, long fingers curling around the rough skin, warm, alive, and before Bokuto can articulate a word, Akaashi bows and touches the knuckles with his lips. The gesture is short, lasting less than a second, barely ghosting over the skin before Akaashi pulls away, but it's more than enough to steal his breath away.

 

"We have to make it believable, right?" Akaashi has a smirk on his lips when he whispers this.

 

Bokuto stares, dumbfounded. Akaashi's smirk is still in place when he leaves with a murmur of 'good night, Bokuto-san' over his shoulder. Then, Bokuto blinks dumbly.

 

 _Whoa_ , he thinks, _that was unexpected._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a long chapter as an apology for the late update and the stagnant progress
> 
> 'Okaa-chan' (mother) because kuroo calls his mother 'okaa-chan.' bokuroo bromance forever~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big round of applause for my wonderful beta-reader, for he's always willing to help me out despite all the errors ✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡
> 
> and you too, my friends, for supporting me although i'd been gone for quite some time, be it in silence or out loud~

 

 

 

**Alliance's Buchou Squad**  
Today, May, 12:57 a.m

 

ｷﾀ (it's here~!)━━━ヽ(∀ﾟ )人(ﾟ∀ﾟ)人( ﾟ∀)ノ━━━!!

 

golden week~!

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
whoa, dude

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
i know you're excited but damn, it's like, fucking 1 a.m. here!

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
go to sleep, you owl bastard!

 

**Tarako Gora**  
why haven't you?

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
stop siding him, tarako!

 

**Tarako Gora**  
i'm not siding anyone

 

**Tarako Gora**  
i was staing a fact

 

hey, hey, hey

 

has kuroo told you guys that nekoma isn't joining us this time?

 

**Tarako Gora**  
yes

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
yep

 

it's tragic! i'll be lonely without my bro!

 

**Tarako Gora**  
let us mourn for our brother

 

**Tarako Gora**  
here lies  
a friend  
a brother  
a devoted captain

 

**Tarako Gora**  
rest in peace, kuroo tetsurou

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
your memories will remain with us

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
a sneaky cat  
a demon  
an asshole

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
rip, kuroo tetsurou

 

**Kubroo**  
you bastards!

 

**Kubroo**  
i'm still alive, fucktards!

 

BROOOOOO!!!

 

**Tarako Gora**  
oh my, his ghost is lingering in our chat group

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
we should kick him out

 

i'm calling the priest!

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
we need to purify our chat group!

 

**Tarako Gora**  
i heard aso shrine in kumamoto got holy water

 

where's that? i'm gonna run my way there!

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
dude, kumamoto prefecture's in kyushu

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
that's like, hundreds of miles away

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
by the time you're there, kuroo!ghost possessed our chat group

 

(〇o〇；)!!!

 

what to do, then?

 

**Ogano the broccoli**  
why bother going to kyushu when we can get holy water around here?

 

**Tarako Gora**  
point

 

**Kubroo**  
okay, first, i'm still alive

 

**Kubroo**  
second, if i was to die, i'd haunt your life, not the goddamn chat group. i'm not sadako, goddamit

 

**Kubroo**  
and third

 

**Kubroo**  
FUCK

 

**Kubroo**  
YOU

 

**Kubroo**  
ALL!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The third day into the Golden Week at Ubugawa High, Bokuto notices that his adopted pup hasn't been able to wrap his mind around Akaashi's hatred towards mornings. Onaga has been staring unabashedly at the cocoon of blanket in the middle of the room that is Akaashi. It must have been a great shock to his adopted pup after discovering that the reality is less glamorous, Bokuto muses.

 

"Omonaga, are you done with your futon?" Bokuto calls out from the doorway.

 

Onaga is startled, "Uh, ye—yeah."

 

"Great. Can you get us a table at the cafeteria? Tarako's guys are ruthless."

 

"Okay. Just, uhm," Onaga hesitates. When Akaashi's phone rings indicating an alarm, he averts his gaze back to the lump of the futon, uncertain.

 

Bokuto approaches him, "It's okay. I'll get Akaashi ready. You go first."

 

Onaga begins to leave but his gaze hasn't moved from the lump. Bokuto waves him off before he takes a seat next to Akaashi's futon. He touches the slope which he believes is Akaashi's shoulder.

 

"Akaashi? Get up. It's morning. Your alarm's ringing."

 

"Loud," comes a slur from the cocoon.

 

Bokuto grins and runs his fingers through Akaashi's tuft that's peeking out of the blanket. He asks even though it's obvious what Akaashi talks about, "Sorry?"

 

"Alarm clock," Akaashi says, burying his face further, "Throw it. Smash it. Kill it."

 

"You won't feel so homicidal after coffee, Akaashi. And that's your phone, I gotta remind you."

 

"No," Akaashi whines—definitely _whines_ , and Bokuto beams at the sound coming from his supposedly calm setter.

 

"Akaashi, you've gotta get up! You owe me tosses since we ended early last night."

 

"I know. Just—urgh."

 

"Okay. Alright. Ten minutes, that's all you get," Bokuto caves in after a minute of consideration. He turns off the alarm and adjusts the blanket down to Akaashi's shoulder. Then Bokuto checks his own phone.

 

 

 

**Kubroo**  
Today, May, 7.19 a.m

 

having a practice match with karasuno today

 

finally

 

we can see our so-called destined rival

 

my coach looks suspiciously glowing

 

 

Bokuto can't help but smile at the texts. He shoots off a reply.

 

 

 

 

can't imagine your coach's glowing face

 

but hey, hey, hey!!! good luck, bro! kick their asses for me!

 

tell me something i don't know

 

 

Then he sees a text from an unknown number.

 

 

 

**+81-9079XXXXX4**  
Today, May, 7:05 a.m.

 

stay away from my alpha

 

bitch

 

thief

 

 

Bokuto raises a brow at that. When he's about to reply to the number, he receives a text from Shirofuku.

 

 

 

**Cookie Monster Yukie**  
Today, May, 7:47 a.m.

 

can you check up on komi?

 

they are in the toilet. second floor.

 

sarukui said he refuses to wear the collar

 

 

Known as 'collar' in the Omega community, the suppressant patch is an imitation of the claiming bite. It is placed on the nape of the neck where the scent gland is situated to provide a sense of security to the Omega. Bokuto hasn't had a full grasp on pheromones but he knows the suppressant patch works wonders when he sees many unclaimed Omegas wear them. Komi once commented that those Omegas were weak and insecure. Bokuto chose to keep his opinion to himself.

 

In another circumstance, Omegas put on suppressant patches during their pre-heats in order to keep their hormones in check. But Komi, being a prideful Omega, hates the collar with such a passion that there are days where it takes a lot of bargains to get him to wear it.

 

Bokuto knows this is one of those days. He springs to his feet to perform his duty as captain.

 

The toilet is filled with frustrated whispers when he arrives. Bokuto pauses in his track just a step before the door.

 

"This wouldn't happen if you just fucking claimed me!"

 

"Komi-yan, we've talked about this."

 

"Yeah, and I fucking hate it!"

 

_Ah,_ Bokuto realizes, this is one of their common fights. Sarukui and Komi's push-and-pull relationship is way too complicated to deal with in the early morning. Bokuto feels like an intruder but a duty is a duty. He bulldozes through with a warm smile in hopes it's able to keep Komi's temper down.

 

"Komi, Komi, Komi~! Today's too beautiful to start with a fight."

 

Both Sarukui and Komi snap their heads towards him. A mixture of relief and pleading is clear in Sarukui's eyes. Meanwhile, Komi's eyes show obvious anger. A shudder runs down Bokuto's spine.

 

"Stay away from this," Komi hisses.

 

"Okay," Bokuto holds up his hands to appear dauntless, "But, uh, Yukie asked me to check up on you, so… here I am."

 

Komi glares at Sarukui, "You told Yukie?! Fuck you, man!"

 

Bokuto rushes to fit himself between Komi and Sarukui, worried if Komi throws a punch. An angry Omega with unstable hormones is not to be messed with, even worse with a firecracker like Komi. Too dangerous.

 

He tries, "Whoa, hey, hey. Relax. Saru's just worried about you, okay?"

 

"If he's so worried about me, he should've done what he's supposed to do months ago!"

 

"Well, that—" Bokuto grimaces. That's one topic he'd prefer not to discuss. "Okay. Alright. Yeah, that. Just wanna be clear here, I have no say in…whatever you two fighting over. But what I can say now is that you two can discuss it later. I mean, after this camp is over—or all camps in general. No fighting during camps."

 

"And force me to wear the goddamn collar?!" Komi snaps.

 

"No, no, nononononono, no! We aren't forcing you to wear the patch. But—hey, Komi, listen! Listen to me, Komi. But it's highly recommended for you to put on the patch so your hormones can be regulated. C'mon, I know you don't like having unstable hormones, right?"

 

Komi deflates a little, "But I hate it."

 

"Yes, I know," Bokuto assures, "I know you hate it because—"

 

"We don't talk about that," Komi cuts him off.

 

"Yeah, we don't talk about that," Bokuto quickly agrees because, in truth, he doesn't know the reason either. Komi simply doesn't talk about it. "But can you please wear the patch? I want you to play at your best. Fukurodani needs their libero in the right state of mind. Can you do it for our team? For Fukurodani?"

 

There's a beat of silence as Komi searches for Sarukui's gaze who's standing behind Bokuto. Then, he wilts, "Fine. Just—urgh, on two conditions."

 

"Great!" Bokuto cheers, "Name them, bro. Anything for our precious libero."

 

"First, I get to have Saru's desserts. All of them."

 

Bokuto throws a glance over his shoulder for Sarukui's confirmation. Sarukui gives a simple nod. Bokuto smiles, "Deal. The second one?"

 

"Uhm, I need," Komi blushes, eyes away from them, hands fisting the hem of his shirt. Bokuto waits with a smile. A few seconds fly by, and finally, he gives in, "I want Saru's jacket."

 

It shouldn't be surprising to hear such a request from Komi since he's in his pre-heat, hence requiring more sense of security to keep his sanity in check, and yet it catches Bokuto off guard nonetheless. Bokuto remembers to pick his jaw back up.

 

"But you have your nest already," Bokuto points out, recalling the temporary little nest in the corner of the classroom made up of Sarukui's clothes.

 

Komi growls, "I. Want. Saru's. Jacket."

 

"Here," Sarukui offers his Fukurodani jacket without preamble. When Komi slides his hand into the sleeve, Bokuto pieces everything together. He releases a sigh of relief. Komi is a softie even though he appears so tough most of the time.

 

"Good, now you have Saru's desserts and jacket, you gotta wear the patch. Do you need my help to put it on?" Bokuto asks.

 

"No. Not you. I want Saru to help me."

 

Bokuto holds up his hands, "Okay. Alright. Anything for you. I'll leave it to Saru, then. When you get down to the cafeteria, I wanna see you already wearing the patch, yeah? Real bros always keep their word."

 

Komi begrudgingly mutters out a 'fine.' As Bokuto turns on his heel, he catches Sarukui mouthing a 'thank you' from the corner of his eye. He waves it off with a grin before heading to the classroom again to check up on Akaashi.

 

As expected, he finds Akaashi still asleep even though his ten minutes are long over. Bokuto walks over to Akaashi's bag and paws through it for his coffee supply. He fishes out two of them since Akaashi's brain won't be fully online until his second coffee.

 

"Hey, Akaashi, wake up. Your ten minutes is up," Bokuto pokes Akaashi's cheek with the canned drink. "Wake uuuuuuup~~~"

 

Akaashi keeps snoring away.

 

"Akaashiiiiii~!"

 

More snoring.

 

"AKASHIIIII!!!!!!"

 

After many of Bokuto's desperate attempts, Akaashi wakes up thirteen minutes later, bleary eyed and mumbling. He looks rather adorable when Akaashi drags the heel of his palm over his eyes to chase the sleep away, curly hair all over the place. It's cute. Bokuto wants to capture this adorable moment in a photo before it gets shattered by his own surprised yelp as Akaashi nearly walks into the wall.

 

Bokuto sighs. Akaashi in the morning is adorable, but definitely handful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The matches are great. Ubugawa are ruthless with their serves and blocks. Meanwhile, Shinzen keeps throwing them off with their combinations. There are times where they lose by a small margin. Though, they win most of them. Regardless, Bokuto enjoys playing against them.

 

His duty as the captain doesn't simply end the moment night blankets the sky. The thirty minutes before lights off are spent on the nightly meeting amongst the captains. The cleaning duty, food distribution, court preparation, match arrangement and more—everything must be decided by then to ensure the efficiency of time management.

 

Usually, Kuroo would take the note down and share it with him because Bokuto writes at a snail's pace, but since Kuroo isn't around this time, Bokuto thinks he could perhaps take a picture of Gora's or Ogano's notes and send it to Akaashi.

 

On the way to the meeting room, Bokuto goes through his message inbox. A new text from the unknown number captures his attention.

 

 

 

**+81-9079XXXXX4**  
Today, May, 10:17 p.m

 

this is the last warning, bitch

 

stay away from my keiji

 

 

Bokuto knits his brows together, puzzled. He types back a reply.

 

 

 

 

who is this?

 

 

It doesn't take him long to wait as the reply is instant.

 

 

 

 

i'm keiji's omega

 

has always been even before you presented

 

don't steal what's mine, thief

 

 

He tilts his head in utter confusion. The sender wrote 'watashi,' the term girls use for the self-pronoun instead of 'boku,' which is for boys. Then Bokuto shakes his head to get rid of the thought, chanting to himself to not to be so quick to judge. It's unfair to the sender.

 

His ringtone rouses Bokuto out of his thoughts, a call from Kuroo. Everything flies out of his head upon seeing the name flash on the screen.

 

"Brooooo!" Bokuto answers.

 

"Brooooooo!" Kuroo yells back.

 

"Brooooooooooo!"

 

"Brooooooooooooo!"

 

"Bro, I missed you!"

 

"Uh, can't say the same because you just ruptured my eardrum. I'm half-deaf now. Goodbye, music. Goodbye, volleyball. Goodbye, world," Kuroo sighs dramatically. Bokuto can imagine Kuroo throwing an arm over his eyes for the dramatic effect on the other side of the line.

 

"Bro, don't! You still have hope! You have me!" Bokuto plays along and feigns shooting his arm out, as though he's trying to save Kuroo even if the latter can't see him.

 

Their drama continues as Kuroo tries to sound anguished, "I can't, Bo. Without music, I just can't—I can't play volleyball anymore. No volleyball, no life."

 

"It's okay, Kuroo. It's okay. I'll be your ear. I'll help you. I'll even tell the tournament to not play music and allow cheer bands and hold the match in a soundproof room so everyone can be as deaf as you are. Or we can just, y'know, hurt every player's eardrums or something. It's easier."

 

Laughter suddenly erupts from Kuroo's mouth. "Goddammit, you're mad. Like, super-duper mad. Why am I still talking to you?"

 

"Because madness is like gravity. It sucks everything in," Bokuto grins so wide his cheeks hurt. He might have been infected by Kuroo's laughter. His steps become lighter as he climbs up the stairs.

 

"There you go, dropping a pearl of wisdom without warning. And it's stolen from the Batman movie too!"

 

"Bro, can you just—urgh, please let me be clever for once," Bokuto complains, dragging his palm down his cheek in frustration.

 

"You know, I wouldn't even admit that even if my life was at stake," Kuroo chuckles, "Anyway, how's the camp? Fun? Boring without me there? 'Cause, well, the party won't start until I walk in~"

 

"And you stole that from that American singer, uh, a chick, I think? I don't remember. Anyway, we're having a blast here!" Bokuto cheers, jumping up the last step of the staircase, before he lands on both feet excitedly. He skips along the corridor, "Shinzen's getting stronger this time. They have this new middle blocker and he's super smart and he stuffed my spikes twice. And he's a first-year too, so he's awesome! But not as awesome as Omonaga because y'know, Omonaga is my pup and no one can beat my pup!"

 

"You're very proud of your pup, aren't you?"

 

Bokuto can hear a proud smile in Kuroo's voice. He grins, "Yeah. 'Cause Omonaga is Omonaga!"

 

"You'll be a great mother to your pups, Bo," Kuroo says with a note of fondness.

 

Bokuto blinks, bewildered, and Kuroo seems to snap himself out of a process that Bokuto can't exactly point his finger on. Kuroo is difficult to read at times, even more so when he doesn't have a proper view of Kuroo's face.

 

Kuroo clears his throat, "How about Ubugawa?"

 

"Ubugawa is awesome as usual. Their serves and blocks are insane. Their balls go _swish_ , _fwoosh_ ," Bokuto makes a motion of slicing the air at this, "And then _KABAAAM_!!! Like that!"

 

"Sometimes I wish there were subtitles for your weird language."

 

"Dude, I speak Japanese! Japaaaaanese," Bokuto exclaims, "So, how was Karasuno?"

 

"Played a number of matches against them. Kicked their asses every time."

 

"Expected nothing less from my bro!"

 

"But," Kuroo's tone drops suddenly, sharply. Bokuto is taken aback. "Now I get it why the old man was looking forward to the match. They're a bunch of crazy players. Like they shouldn't exist at all because no one is crazier than them. Sure, we kicked their asses, but they have so much potential. Especially that tiny middle blocker."

 

"Tiny?" Bokuto frowns.

 

"Yeah, that number 10, a first-year, is shorter than Yakkun but he's their middle blocker. He's shit at blocking, but damn, his quicks are way too fast. Before you know it, he's already there. And he actually closes his eyes when he spikes the ball."

 

Bokuto gasps, almost stopping in his track, "Is that even possible?"

 

"I saw it myself, so it's definitely possible. Well, I think it lies on their setter's amazing skill. If I'm not mistaken," Kuroo hums in thoughts, "Their setter is genius or something, and a first-year, too. Together, they're a pair of annoying flies."

 

"Whoa, he seems so awesome! I wonder if he can toss for me," Bokuto ponders aloud, eyes on the bright fluorescent lamp overhead. Then he shakes his head, "Ah, no! No, no, no! My setter is Akaashi. Just Akaashi!"

 

"Your astounding loyalty is very endearing," Kuroo deadpans. "In general, Karasuno at the moment is still mediocre, but with their insatiable hunger for victory, I'm sure they're going to be a real pain in the ass. A worthy opponent for Nekoma."

 

A swell of pride blooms inside Bokuto. "Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo. You regard Karasuno highly, don't you?"

 

"Haaaa?" Kuroo sounds offended, "Excuse _you_ , I just wanna crush them and show the world that Nekoma's the winner of the Battle at the Garbage Dump, and it's that old man's dream. It's my job as Nekoma's captain to make it come true. Plus, nothing is more satisfying than crushing a team after all the effort they put in."

 

"C'mon, Kuroo-kun, no need to paint yourself as the villain. You just wanna defeat them at their best. You're childish like that."

 

Kuroo sounds like he's choked for a second, and then grumbles, "Urgh, it feels worse hearing that from you of all people."

 

"Ah, I'm here. I'm gonna put you on speaker, 'kay?" Bokuto tells him, eyes on the room number installed at the top of the door. He slides the door open with so much strength it slams loudly and surprises the occupants inside. Then he shoves the phone out towards the rest of the captains. "Guys, say hi to Kuroo! He's on the phone."

 

"ITADAKIMASU!" Kuroo yells.

 

Ogano is the first one to respond out of annoyance, finger jabbing in the general direction of Bokuto's phone even though it's clear Kuroo can't see him, "You asshole, Kuroo! Stop that!"

 

"The camp's never been better without you around," Gora points out jokingly, "I guess we should really kick you out of the Alliance after all."

 

"Fuck you all. Seriously, fuck you all," Kuroo says, but by the way he chuckles into the phone, he doesn't take them into heart. Bokuto heartily joins him laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hah, I know you're weak after all, Bokuto," Ogano chuckles a little devilish sound from across the table. He reclines on the chair like a boss, his body is twisted slightly as he rests an elbow on the backrest. "Just accept your defeat already. You can never surpass me. Not in a million years."

 

Bokuto grits his teeth, annoyed, "You bastard, broccoli."

 

The door is slid open, and Gora glances over his shoulder from his chair. In the doorway, Akaashi is scanning the room, disinterested. The table is littered with battle cards, and the cards in Bokuto's and Ogano's holds indicate that they're the culprits—no, the current players.

 

Gora calls out to Bokuto, "Hey, Fukuro, your Alpha's here to fetch you."

 

"Akaashi, broccoli's being mean to me!" Bokuto whines. His cards in his hold are scattered all over the place when he rushes over to seek comfort from Akaashi. "He has so many awesome cards, and he attacked me nonstop! When I attacked, he used these weird, annoying cards to reflect them back to me. Then he used his Blue Eyes White Dragon card. That shit is super strong, it's not even funny! Do something about it, Akaashi!"

 

"It's not my fault you suck," Ogano sticks out his tongue, fanning himself with his cards.

 

Akaashi gives a quick glance at Bokuto's cards, and then asks, "What's your life point right now?"

 

"274," Gora answers on Bokuto's behalf after a look at the score, "Ogano's 1493."

 

"Bokuto-san concedes defeat," Akaashi decides suddenly, ignoring Bokuto's loud 'noooooooooo~!' at his side. He begins to clean Bokuto's mess as Bokuto tragically laments at Akaashi's insensitiveness in the corner. "I wouldn't want to spoil your entertainment but I'm afraid it's already past Bokuto-san's bedtime. He needs his beauty sleep or he'll be a real pain in the ass in the morning."

 

"You're worse than me in the morning, Akaashi!" Bokuto accuses but Akaashi is already dragging him out of the meeting room by the collar while Ogano whistles wolfishly, chanting, 'take care of your Omega, Akaashi~' and Gora bids them good night.

 

Akaashi returns Bokuto's cards once they're at the staircase and says, "I'll try to come early tomorrow night so you won't suffer an early defeat."

 

"I'm not that bad, okay," Bokuto pouts. He shoves the cards into his pocket, sulking.

 

"Your life point and the cards on the graveyard showed otherwise. Not to mention, your card arrangement was worse. You were only thinking about attacking. No defense at all. That's why Ogano-san was able to defeat you."

 

"Offense is the best defense!"

 

"Sure, Bokuto-san," Akaashi sighs, resigned. They walk along the quiet corridor.

 

Bokuto checks time on his phone. "Anyway, you came quite late tonight. Did something happen to the team? Or Komi? 'Cause y'know, he's in pre-heat."

 

"Komi-san went to bed early as usual. Sarukui-san didn't say anything either, so I presumed both of them are quite fine," Akaashi reports and slows down to give room to Bokuto as the vending machine is in the way. "It seems that Komi-san's pheromones have yet thickened, which is a good news to the rest of the Alphas, but Washio-san requested to swap his place with Konoha-san just to be safe."

 

"Do you think Komi will be able to play tomorrow?"

 

"Based on Shirofuku-san's observation and the thickness of Komi-san's pheromones, I think he'll be able to play with us. Yamiji-san has given him and Sarukui-san permission to leave the day after tomorrow. However, Yamiji-san insists to keep a close eye on him tomorrow in case his heat strikes early."

 

"We should consider substituting him with Mizuki tomorrow," Bokuto suggests, his mind going to their first-year libero. "Pre-heat symptoms are quite a bitch, y'know. Plus, Mizuki could use some experience."

 

"I think Komi-san won't accept that easily," Akaashi points out.

 

Bokuto grins that reassuring smile, the one that's wide and causes wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, "It's okay. I'll talk to him. My teammates' wellbeing always comes first."

 

It takes Akaashi a long time to blink. Then, he closes his eyes. Under bright light of the fluorescent lamp, Bokuto can make out the length of Akaashi's eyelashes. They're short and straight but they fit his image perfectly. Bokuto's chest feels tight and heavy when a hint of a smile plays on Akaashi's face, in the corner of his eyes.

 

"You never cease to surprise me, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says.

 

The strength of his voice, low and smooth, makes Bokuto's cheeks burn. Bokuto looks away, flustered. Everything feels foreign to Bokuto—the situation, the silence, the distance to their sleeping room that suddenly feels too far. Gora's words, ' _your Alpha_ ,' clashing with _'I'm Keiji's Omega_ ,' from  the unknown sender in his mind.

 

"Uh, Akaashi," Bokuto tries. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt distractedly. "I just wanna know, well. I know, uh, you're agreeing to this courtship because of our club, but, ah, how about you?"

 

"What about me?"

 

"Are you seeing anyone?"

 

Akaashi raises his brows, and then answers, "Yes, you."

 

That throws Bokuto off for a second before he recovers with a red face, "No, not me—I mean, not this courtship but someone else. Like another Omega or Beta, or, uh, just anyone else but me."

 

"No."

 

"But—" Bokuto stops himself. If Akaashi says no, then he shouldn't dwell on it regardless of whatever the unknown sender claimed. It only makes everything complicated, and Bokuto's brain can't digest complicated issues. Plus, Akaashi wouldn't tell him lies. That's just not Akaashi.

 

"Bokuto-san, is something wrong?"

 

Bokuto grimaces. They round the corner and their sleeping room comes into view. Bokuto blows a raspberry and glances towards the window. The classroom is dark, but he can make out the figures of his sleeping teammates.

 

"Bokuto-san?"

 

Akaashi's fingers around his bicep are warm. Firm. Reassuring.

 

Bokuto places his fingers over Akaashi's and grins, "It's nothing."

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to Foxyena, for editing this chapter. you're awesome! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆
> 
>  
> 
> [ **Trigger Warnings** : This chapter contains light descriptions of attempted non-con, violence and implication of subdrop. Please take caution while reading and seek help if triggered. We do not condone non-consensual anything and violence. No means no, and rape is rape regardless of the form.]

 

 

Three weeks until the Interhigh Preliminaries.

 

Three weeks of practice remain. Four hours scheduled on the courts, one hour in the morning and three hours for the evening practice; though, Bokuto is more than well aware that the regulars will be drilling themselves long after, except Komi and Sarukui, who were given permission to stay out of school for a week in order to let Komi's heat run its course. Their absence is felt in the way the silence haunts the gym, but it's nothing that Bokuto can't handle.

 

"Oi, Washio!" Konoha screams across the gym from the doorway, "Block for me. I want to spike some balls."

 

"Sure. Onaga can help too. He needs to improve his blocking," Washio jerks his head in Onaga's direction, who promptly turns around with a flustered look on his face. Bokuto feels bad for his adopted pup. Washio asks, "Who's going to set?"

 

From the corner of Bokuto's eye, he sees Akaashi step in and offer, "I can do it."

 

"How about Bokuto?" Washio raises a brow.

 

"Nah, I've got a meeting with Nanase at the girls' court," Bokuto supplies, hand waving dismissively, "Captain's stuff and whatnot. You can have Akaashi. But don't overdo it. We have roadwork today, so keep them light," he informs, for once prided himself on remembering the plan, where the reminder duty usually falls on Akaashi.

 

"Aw, don't you sound like a captain today~" Konoha teases.

 

"Hey, I am _the_ captain!"

 

"Better to leave now or you'll keep Nanase-san waiting, Bokuto-san," Akaashi interrupts, "I will keep an eye on them for you."

 

Konoha snickers like a sneaky fox. Akaashi keeps a straight look. Bokuto puffs out a breath and gives the gym a glance over. The pre-regulars scatter around the periphery of the courts, ready for roadwork. He nods his approval before leaving.

 

The girls' gym is located on the east side of the school, so it's going to need a bit of a walk. Bokuto takes note of the sky. Three crows fly up into the sky, dark specters circling the school like vultures. The sight is rare and unsettling. Bokuto isn't superstitious, but he can't shake that uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

 

When Bokuto is called on by Nanase, he realizes that he's already in the vicinity of the girls' gym. He beams and waves, "Hey, Nanase!"

 

Nanase brings him to the side. She has a sheet of paper in her hand. "So I've got the schedule for the pep rally from the student council. It is scheduled for this Saturday. Our turn is after the swimming clubs."

 

"This Saturday? That's quite early," Bokuto skims through the paper, "I haven't prepared my speech yet."

 

"Yeah, I know. Apparently, the baseball Interhigh prelims start next week. It was a very late notice, too. So they had to push everything forward," she grumbles, "It's so unfair. They should get a kick in the ass for the late notice. Why does the baseball club get a green pass for everything? I hate baseball so much."

 

Bokuto chuckles at the childish display the Alpha shows. "It can't be helped. Our country is crazy about baseball after all. I guess I have to ask for Akaashi's help with the speech, then."

 

"Now I hate you. You're lucky you got a capable courtmate to help you with everything," Nanase scrunches her nose up.

 

"Well, that—" Bokuto pauses because he can't exactly confess to Nanase that he and Akaashi are fake courtmates. While Bokuto trusts Nanase, the regulars have agreed to keep the damage control minimum. That includes keeping Nanase out of the loop, even if it sucks. In the end, Bokuto just shrugs.

 

"Oh yes, I remembered something," Nanase snaps her fingers, "Today we're going to do roadwork. How about you boys?"

 

"We're planning to do that, too. Wanna go together? The more, the merrier."

 

Nanase nods her assent. Bokuto listens to her planned track and reveals the boys' track in return. After a few minutes of discussion, Bokuto returns to the gym. The members had just finished their chats when Bokuto arrives.

 

"Gather up!" Bokuto announces, hands on his hips, and they gather in front of him in seconds. He feels a bloom of pride in his chest in their efficiency. It's a great miracle that his team still listens to him even though he's an Omega.

 

"As you're informed, we're going to do roadwork. Like usual, the regulars stay at the front while Akaashi leads." At this, the regulars groan, Konoha being the loudest since Komi isn't around. Bokuto carries on, "But today, the girls are joining us!" At this, everyone cheers, Konoha again being the loudest.

 

"I love you, Bokuto!" Konoha hoots, followed by the rest. Bokuto snorts, expecting much from the parliament of owls.

 

"Uh huh," he makes a warning sound, "I know you guys are going to behave like monkeys, so me and Nanase agreed to put her girls behind you guys, so you won't stare at their… uh, assets. Bear in mind, too, that me and Nanase are at the back watching you guys. I won't stop Nanase from kicking your sorry asses if she catches you staring at her girls. Do not underestimate her kick."

 

They groan in unison. Bokuto catches Konoha grumbling under his breath like a kid from the corner of his eye.

 

"Also, while we agreed to put the girls behind you guys in the beginning of the track, we won't stop them if they choose to leave you guys in the dust. But hey, hey, hey! Surely you're up for the challenge, no?"

 

There are sparks in their eyes. Bokuto hums his approval and grins. He loves his club so much.

 

"Alright, then. On the last note, we're going to split up with the girls at the Mimakasa residence. The green, cubic house, remember? The one with pointy roof—ah, nevermind. They will go back to school immediately while you guys run ahead for another kilometer. Yukie will be there to guard the checkpoint, so no cheating! Is that clear?"

 

"Crystal!" the rest of the members chorus while Konoha sighs 'yeah, yeah,' and Washio nods next to him.

 

"Good. To the gate, off you go!!!" Bokuto claps.

 

With that, they march to the gate. Bokuto gives Shirofuku some instruction before she leaves to get her bicycle. When Bokuto starts to head out, he finds Akaashi waiting for him by the door.

 

"Shouldn't you be going first?" Bokuto asks.

 

"The starting point is the gate, it's not that far. Another couple of minutes won't hurt them," Akaashi answers like it's not a big deal to keep the team waiting even though Akaashi is so adamant about punctuality. Bokuto wants to argue, but everything fizzles out when he catches the sun glinting off the sleeve of Akaashi's yellow shirt as Akaashi shifts to his dominant foot.

 

It's beyond him how Akaashi can find the right angle of light reflection to make him more attractive with that hideous shirt on. Simply unthinkable. Bokuto twitches his nose in half annoyance.

 

"Will you be alright staying behind with Nanase-san?" Akaashi's question startles Bokuto out of his thoughts.

 

"Hey, I can keep up with you guys just fine," Bokuto crosses his arms, insulted.

 

"I'm not implying that you aren't capable of catching up. I'm simply concerned if you're able to keep your pace slow. Knowing you, it won't take you long before you lose your patience and start to run past us," Akaashi explains, "I'm sure Nanase-san wouldn't be delighted to be left alone watching the team."

 

The point hits home, and Bokuto grins sheepishly. Akaashi knows him too damn well. "I promise to keep my pace slow today."

 

Akaashi brings up his right pinky. Bokuto becomes flabbergasted, knowing but uncertain all the same. He knows what Akaashi wants, and yet he's unsure if Akaashi wants to seal the promise like children do. It's… unbecoming.

 

"Uh…" Bokuto begins. Akaashi keeps his straight look on and his pinky up, undeterred.

 

Bokuto sighs. He scratches the back of his head, trying to avoid Akaashi's green eyes. Trying to pretend his face doesn't feel warm. Trying to pretend that he doesn't want to grin at the rare childish display Akaashi puts up.

 

But he fails to stop his lips from curling, so Bokuto gives in to his desire. He grins a mile wide, amused, and twines his left pinky around Akaashi's. Being this close, Akaashi's Alpha scent, similar to the musk of wet woods touched by the morning sunlight, blankets Bokuto. Calming and promising. It makes him more excited to keep his words and fulfill Akaashi's expectation.

 

"You can count on me, 'Kaashi."

 

Akaashi smiles. "I know, Bokuto-san."

 

If they're taking a long time heading to the gate, well, that's a part of the courting charade, Bokuto reckons.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sun sets gradually, the sky awash with pink and taupe streaks that a flock of birds floats across. As promised, Bokuto matches his pace with Nanase, sharp eyes on the pack ahead of them to ensure that everyone stays on the track. Once in awhile, Bokuto and Nanase pause in their track when some members stutter into a halt once exhaustion catches up with them. He takes a mental note to plan a regime to improve the stamina with Akaashi and their coach later.

 

Good thing none of them are the regulars. It'd be alarming if he found the regulars face down on the ground.

 

"I need to be more strict on my girls. It's so depressing to see them struggling to catch a breath, and we haven't played yet," Nanase mutters out under her breath. "I'm so not looking forward to watching them play a full game."

 

"C'mon, give them a chance. We still have time to improve. Plus, you're already scary as it is," he tries to placate.

 

She sends him a sharp glare. "In case you've gone senile, we have three weeks left until the prelims. Three weeks—not three months."

 

"Well, three weeks—not three days."

 

"Aren't you being optimistic? So bright, so radiant." Nanase's words drip sarcasm. "I can almost see a halo hovering above your head."

 

On cue, Bokuto looks up. "Where? Where, where? I'm an angel now?"

 

"I'm joking, you big oaf."

 

They cut down the street. Most of the club members have gone ahead while Bokuto and Nanase have yet to pass the checkpoint. Bokuto doesn't mind since he needs to keep an eye out for any member left behind, but he already can see the playground at the street corner, which means they aren't that far from the checkpoint. He concludes that all of them have gotten past the checkpoint. Another couple of houses and a basketball court, he will come across the Mimakasa residence, split ways with Nanase and head back to school with Shirofuku.

 

It should be easy.

 

Except that his sensitive nose catches a whiff of an awful, familiar scent, the one that reminds him of wet garbage. The one that he dislikes. The one that once overpowered him.

 

Bokuto's heart stutters. Panic surges through him. He grabs Nanase by the wrist and speeds up despite her confused protests.

 

"Bokuto—"

 

Too late. It's already too late. Bokuto stops to an abrupt halt, which results in Nanase colliding into his back. She whines, but is stumped into silence once she craned her neck.

 

A muscular body, bathed in shadows, looms over them. The fists at his sides are clenching and unclenching angrily. Heaving shoulders, ragged breaths, and an awful Alpha scent that drapes over them.

 

Yamori from the rugby club accompanied by two lanky Beta guys, one with obvious freckles and brown hair, the other with crooked teeth and bleached hair.

 

_This doesn't look good,_ Bokuto swallows thickly.

 

"I've been looking for you everywhere, whore," Yamori sneers, voice thick of venom and hatred.

 

On instinct, Nanase slips forward, an arm outstretching across Bokuto's chest as a shield. Her Alpha scent, akin to burning metal, sharp and pungent, pours out from her scent gland. She bares her teeth, "Fuck off!!!"

 

"Don't you have balls, protected by a girl?" Yamori cackles evilly, stomping closer. His foul scent grows stronger. Bokuto feels like an itch crawling under his skin. "You should be ashamed of yourself, you useless Omega."

 

"Fuck. OFF, I said!!!"

 

A loud growl thunders through the heavy silence, followed by Yamori's fist flying in Nanase's right direction. Alerted, Bokuto shoots up his arm to stop the punch before it lands on her face. Quick on her feet, Nanase aims a punch at Yamori's face but the freckled guy is fast to catch her hand.

 

Bokuto feels his heart drop.

 

"NANASE—"

 

The name dies on his lips as soon as the freckled boy yanks her forward by the fist. It happens so fast that the world seems to stop. In a split second, Bokuto sees fear flash across her face as she's pulled away, and a huge hand snaking towards him. Before he knows it, Nanase is already struggling in the freckled boy's hold while Yamori has a firm grip of his jaw, pushing him back into the wall with so much force that it knocks the breath out of Bokuto. His instinct prompts him to grab the outstretched arm, claw and hit it in a vain attempt to free himself.

 

"Stop wriggling or I'll hurt your girl," Yamori hisses.

 

At the threat, Bokuto's eyes find a pocket knife pressed up against Nanase's throat by the bleached-haired boy. If he felt his heart drop before, he feels it leap to his throat instead.

 

"You—" Bokuto manages through the firm grip on his jaw. Yamori's disgusting nails are clawing deeper into his skin in warning. Bokuto clamps his mouth shut begrudgingly, anger hot in his chest.

 

Yamori is amused by his helplessness. "Where's your strong punch that you boasted the other day? Where the fuck is it?! Where??? Fucking show me!!!"

 

Bokuto swings a punch. It misses by a large margin. He harrumphs in frustration. Yamori laughs like a hyena.

 

"Now, now. Why don't you be a good whore for us, hm?" Yamori smirks. To Bokuto's horror, his tone drops lower and yet it's rich with Alpha authority, "I, as an Alpha, command you, a useless Omega, to submit to me!"

 

Instantly, his Omega instincts scream at him, _'Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, AlphaAlphaAlpha!!! SUBMIT!!!'_

 

Eyes clenched shut, Bokuto fights the instincts. His nails grip deeper around Yamori's grip. He wills himself not to succumb to his nature,  to not submit to the bastard of an Alpha.

 

"I said," Yamori growls, "Submit to ME, Omega!!!"

 

Combined with the Alpha scent, every fiber of Bokuto’s muscles shriek in protest yearning to submit. His hands are shaking. Tears are threatening to spill over. Flashes are crossing behind his eyelids. Loud voices are flooding his mind, crying out, _'submitsubmitsubmitsubmit, SUBMIT!!!! ALPHA!!!!'_

 

Determined, Bokuto bites his bottom lip, hard until he tastes copper on his tongue. It hurts. The sting brings him back to reality. His Omega instincts are screaming at him but he won't be defeated. Not by his own nature, not by this bastard. Defiance burns hotly in his body, angered by the fact that the bastard attempted to use his Alpha voice on him.

 

"Go fuck yourself," Bokuto spits through his ragged breath despite his tense muscles. His ears catch faint chuckles from Nanase.

 

Yamori huffs, "Stubborn, aren't we? Fine, then."

 

He barely utters a 'what' when Yamori slips his other hand to the back of Bokuto's neck. His hand presses into a spot there, and the strangest thing happens. As though a switch flipped inside him, Bokuto feels his entire body relax. His hands drop to his sides. His breathing seems to calm down. He feels his heartbeat slow as the shock of adrenaline leaves him and his mind becomes hazy with a sense of bliss.

 

"Yessss. There it is. Good whore."

 

He knows that he should've been offended by the insult, but he can't remember why. It's so difficult to think when he feels so incredibly relaxed. There's a feminine scream, one that he should be able to recognize, yet it sounds so distant. So foreign. His eyes are glazing over. He can't hear. He can't see. Everything falls into obscurity except for the Alpha in front of him, the Alpha who gives him this blissful feeling, the Alpha who owns him.

 

"Yes, yes, yes. That's it. Be a good slut for me."

 

A breath ghosts over his neck. Being so close, he remembers he should've been repulsed by the scent but his mind is all fuzzy from  the pleasant warmth brewing in his gut. A set of teeth grazes across his skin. His Omega instincts purr in approval. A moan rises to his lips. _Yes, yes, yes_ —he will be more than willing to submit if it means to have more of this fuzzy feeling.

 

"Good. Now, submit to me, whore—"

 

All of a sudden, the pressure on the back of his neck is gone. Without a support to hold him up, he falls to the ground. A pathetic whimper escapes him at the sudden loss of that bliss. Angry growls cut through the fog in his mind, paired with heady familiar scents, but no, he doesn't care about the chaos around him nor the strong scents spiking in the air.

 

He needs that blissful feeling again. He needs to experience it again or he'll fall deep into a place that no one can reach.

 

"BOKUTO-SAN—"

 

A flash of green eyes is the last thing he sees before everything turns black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He wakes with a start.

 

His heart thunders against the ribcage, breath puffing out of his lips, warm and ragged. His body is tense, senses heightened as though a simple touch is able to trigger crackling electricity inside him. Anxious, Bokuto lets his eyes roam around to ensure he's safe. Safe from what, Bokuto has no idea.

 

"You're awake."

 

A familiar voice has Bokuto snapping his head to the right.

 

"A…'kaashi?" he manages through a raw throat.

 

Akaashi keeps calm in his seat. His Fukurodani jacket is painted in cranberry-red light from the window, which means Bokuto has been unconscious for quite some time. He tries to gather his cluttered thoughts. Bokuto takes notice of his surroundings.

 

White beds, pillows, blankets, curtains, marble floor, everything is white— _infirmary_. He's in the school infirmary. But why? Why is he lying in bed—

 

A twinge of fuzzy warmth from the back of his neck makes his hair stand up. Everything rushes over—the roadwork, the conversation with Nanase, the encounter with that bastard, Yamori and his friends, the fight, the Alpha voice, the hand on his scent gland, disgusting but warm all the same, the scenting, the will to submit, the ownership, _'Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, SUBMIT!!!'_

 

"…kuto-san, Bokuto-san!"

 

Bokuto blinks. For some reason, Akaashi's thick brows are drawn up tight. His hands are in mid-air. His throat, pale and smooth, works with the force of his swallow. _'Why_ , _'_ Bokuto wants to ask, but it doesn't come out of his mouth. Instead, what comes is the realization that he's curling in on himself like a vulnerable fetus, fingers pressing into the spot on the nape of his neck.

 

"I lost you there," Akaashi says, his voice soft, "Are you okay, Bokuto-san?"

 

"I…" Bokuto croaks, his voice rougher than he would've liked, eyes away from Akaashi. He sniffs once, presses his nose to his knees, and then feels some kind of material placed over the nape of his neck. He freezes. "…patch?"

 

"Suppressant patch. Your hormones became haywire due to Yamori violating your scent gland. It affected your heartbeat and mental state. Shirofuku-san suggested to put the suppressant patch on you," Akaashi explains in a calm tone.

 

"...Oh."

 

There's a beat of pause. Bokuto knows there's more explanation in Akaashi's silence. Akaashi sighs before he decides to plow through it, "It's said that it can provide you with the sense of security after… what he did to you."

 

Bokuto buries his face in his knees, his movements slowed by his sore muscles. His nails dig into the skin of his neck in fear that someone might violate his scent gland again.

 

"He's been taken care of. He won't be able to get anywhere near you again," Akaashi assures.

 

Bokuto sniffs once. His nose catches a whiff wet garbage. The ache in his jaw and on his back becomes more apparent. The cut on his bottom lip stings. He can feel the ghost of the disgusting hands lingering. It's as if the bastard still owns his body, and he doesn't want that.

 

"They're currently under the police custody. Washio-san and Konoha-san are at the station to oversee the procedures. Nanase-san has volunteered to be the witness, and Yamiji-san is trying to convince the school board to expel them. I've called your mother—she's coming over as we speak."

 

The sinking feeling in his stomach balls into a knot of shame at the thought of submitting without his consent. It twists him from the inside like a corkscrew, tight and painful, and nausea crashes over him violently.

 

"Bokuto-san?"

 

Dry heaves wrack his body, but there's nothing in his stomach to reject. Nothing to get out of his system, just the phantom pressure of fear and adrenaline that resurfaces with the thought. Fear and adrenaline are a potent mix, a taste like metal on his tongue, like blood in his throat, copper and stinging. He swallows, and that just makes the taste worse, spread it through his mouth, rising like bile.

 

"Bokuto-san!"

 

The word reaches him as if from a distance, and Bokuto's fingers dig deeper into the skin. There are so many questions, so many things that don't make sense—why did he let the bastard touch him? Why did he let the bastard scent him? Why is he so weak? Why was he presented as an Omega?

 

"Bokuto-san!"

 

If only he hadn't been so weak. If only he hadn't presented as an Omega.

 

"BOKUTO-SAN!!!"

 

A pair of hands wrenches his fingers from the nape of his neck, and Bokuto struggles. He struggles so hard because he doesn't want to be caught again, to be violated again, to be forced to submit against his will. Eyes closed, he claws, swings, pushes and kicks—he does everything he can to get rid of the bastard.

 

He suddenly finds himself in an embrace. A strong, protective embrace that gives him a sense of safety and comfort.

 

"It's okay, Bokuto-san. It's just me, Akaashi. You're safe now. Breathe. Slow."

 

There's a hand on the back of his head. Warm. Alive. Gentle. His breath hitches. His vision is watery.

 

"It's okay, Bokuto-san. Breathe for me. You're safe now."

 

A rapid heartbeat that's not his own is thumping against his ear. It isn't the fast rhythm that calms him down—that's impossible—no, but the fact that the plane of the body, the one he's familiar with, is providing him with assurance.

 

"It's just me, Akaashi. I won't hurt you."

 

_Yes, yes, yes, Akaashi. This is Akaashi, not, not, not_ —

 

He's safe now. He's safe with Akaashi. This is safe. No one is going to hurt him again. No one is going to violate him again. No more attack. Just—

 

"You're safe now, Bokuto-san."

 

Overwhelmed, Bokuto pulls Akaashi to the bed with him because he desperately needs more of this, of the reassurance that Akaashi promises him. He doesn't care if his body is bigger than Akaashi's. He doesn't care if his sore body is going to scream at him later. He doesn't care if this makes him look pathetic.

 

He just needs Akaashi.

 

He sinks deeper into Akaashi's embrace, shaking and sobbing out of relief. He buries his face in the crook of Akaashi's shoulder. Akaashi's Alpha scent is invading his every pore, but it's okay because this is Akaashi. It's familiar, not dangerous. His woody scent, pleasant and calming, sweeps the smell of wet garbage away. Akaashi's long fingers on his sore back are gentle and real, an anchor to reality as he breaks into pieces in Akaashi's arms.

 

"…'kaashi?"

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san?"

 

"Akaashi."

 

"Yes, Bokuto-san?"

 

"Akaashi."

 

"…Yes, Bokuto-san."

 

The floor is dappled with weak sunlight. The curtains billow in the evening wind. The fan is whirring silently. The room is almost quiet, occasionally broken by the whispers of their names. But they aren't just a simple string of whispers. They're a reminder for Bokuto that Akaashi is here with him. A reminder that he's not alone, that's he's safe with Akaashi.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> due to certain circumstances, i'm gonna need a new beta-reader. so... anyone?  
> (no? oh, okay)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look who came out of the grave!!!!
> 
> proudly beta'ed by Skylark (●っゝω・)っ～☆thank you~~~☆
> 
>    
>   
>  **Trigger Warning applies. Please read with caution.**  
> 

 

 

Four days after the terrifying incident, Bokuto sits on his bed and watches Kuroo pace back and forth across the room. Kenma remains quiet in the corner, his sharp eyes on them.

 

Kuroo's heady, sea-like scent drapes over them, thick and suffocating. Bokuto picks at a spot on the bed sheet near his right foot and then fingers the hem of Akaashi's jacket draped over his shoulders as the silence stretches. He represses the urge to wrap himself in his teammates'  Fukurodani jackets around his bed, worried the action could aggravate Kuroo's frustration.

 

"Uh, Kuroo," Bokuto tries, "Maybe you should sit down."

 

"So I can calm down and accept your decision not to send that asshole to prison?!" Kuroo roars, his Alpha voice echoing in the room. Bokuto scrunches himself up under Akaashi's jacket. The jacket is too small for his muscular body, but he's desperate for Akaashi's natural scent to calm himself down.

 

"Look, Kuroo, I know it sucks that he's going to be free, but at least he isn't allowed to be around me. That should be enough, right?"

 

"NO!!! That bastard should be locked up for good! Hell, I'll find him and beat him myself if that's what it takes to make that bastard learn his place," Kuroo vows, his words loaded with hatred, "And you, Bokuto—are you satisfied with this? He fucking touched you!"

 

"I'm not." Bokuto lowers his eyes on the floor, chin on the knees. Then he smiles, the one that doesn't reach his eyes, the one he puts on for the sake of others instead of himself, "But this is for the best. My family can't afford the legal fees. Since our society always favours Alphas, the legal action won't be smooth sailing. It just adds burden to my family. True, he violated my scent gland and made me submit without my consent, but it wasn't rape. Plus, according to our people, it's in Omegas' nature to submit to Alphas, right?"

 

Kuroo stops in his track and looks stricken. He bites his bottom lip, frustrated. "This isn't about Alphas and Omegas. Fuck it. You got assaulted, goddammit! You have the right to defend yourself even though you're an Omega."

 

At this, Bokuto flinches. He knows Kuroo long enough that he means well, but Bokuto can't help it.

 

Kuroo is oblivious to it as he goes on, "C'mon, you gotta fight this and charge that bastard. I'll stay by your side along the way."

 

"It's not that easy, Kuroo," Bokuto half says, half begs, hoping that his friend calms down. Kuroo's scent is getting stronger. It’s difficult to breathe, nose filled with salt.

 

"That's why I'm staying!!!" Kuroo erupts, his Alpha scent exploding across the room.

 

The Alpha authority is thick. Bokuto's reminded of Yamori's horrible scent. Overwhelmed, he can't move.

 

Kenma is quick to pick up on it. "Kuroo."

 

His heart is racing fast and faster still. Everything spins around him. It feels like his world spiral downward, worsened by his panic attack, and Bokuto can't tell which one is up and down anymore. He can't breathe. Can't think. Can't hear but Yamori's snark in his ears—'useless Omega, a whore!!!'

 

But Kuroo isn't aware of it, too caught up in his fury. "You should be angry at him! You should be asking for the worst punishment!"

 

A lump lodges in Bokuto's throat. His lungs are screaming for air. His body is trembling underneath Akaashi's jacket. Ghosts of hands linger over his scent gland, and Bokuto grabs at the collar to protect it even though he's already wearing a suppressant patch. His Omega instincts are crying, 'Submit, submit, SUBMIT! ALPHA!!!'

 

"Stop acting like a submissive Omega! You're not like this!!! You're—"

 

"Kuroo!!!"

 

Kenma's warning ceases Kuroo entirely. A deafening silence reigns. The salty scent disappears. The room reeks of a distressed Omega's scent. Is that his scent? Is he panicking—Bokuto doesn't know.

 

"Fuck," is all Kuroo says before there's a shuffling of feet across the room.

 

"Don't come anywhere near him." Kenma's cold voice slices the silence. His Beta scent is faint, like a warm small blue ember, and yet enough to put a halt to Kuroo's advance and pulls Bokuto out of his panic spiral. Bokuto peeks from his drawn-up knees, only to see Kenma standing in between the bed and Kuroo like a protective wall.

 

Such a small body, and yet thick with protective scent.

 

"Kenma," Kuroo attempts to placate, "Kitten."

 

"Do not 'kitten' me. Not now, not when you just growled at Bokuto-san," Kenma retorts, his voice icy. "You were acting like those who assaulted Bokuto-san. Thinking that you're the only one who's right, forcing your Alpha authority on others, releasing your Alpha scent so that people obey you. An asshole Alpha."

 

Kuroo opens his mouth. Clamps it shut. Then he sucks in a breath. "Yeah. Okay. You're right. I was a dick. I'm sorry."

 

"Apologize to Bokuto-san. Not me."

 

A deep sigh resounds in the room, followed by Kuroo's careful steps. Panicked, Bokuto hides behind the plane of Kenma's small body. A growl from Kenma stops Kuroo again.

 

"Kenma, I can't do it if you don't let me come close."

 

"I'm not moving."

 

"Okay. I get it," Kuroo sighs again. "I'll...fuck. Bokuto, I'm sorry for scaring you. It wasn't my intention. I was frustrated. Sorry."

 

Bokuto pulls up Akaashi's collar up to his nose. 'No' and 'yes' flash through his mind, a veritable confusion of feelings, conflicted and torn as he studies the guilt on Kuroo's face.

 

"Bokuto, I—" Kuroo tries, his tone awkward and heavy with regret, "I shouldn't have used my Alpha voice and released my Alpha scent knowing what happened to you. I knew that, but I did it anyway. I was an asshole."

 

An ugly feeling tugs in Bokuto's chest. He doesn't like to see that expression. It feels so wrong even though it's at his own expense. Too heavy, too painful. Kenma's presence adds weight to the gravity of the situation. Bokuto shifts his attention to the soft fabric of Akaashi's jacket. He bites his bottom lip, anxious, "I, uhm—it's okay, I guess. You didn't mean it."

 

"Bokuto-san, you don't have to accept his apology just because Kuroo's your good friend. He tried to force his Alpha authority on you. Friends or not, that's not an acceptable thing to do," Kenma reminds him.

 

Yes, Bokuto gets Kenma's point, but he can't find in his heart to stay mad at Kuroo. Or anyone else for that matter. Keeping grudges isn't his thing.

 

"I know, but uh, Kuroo got mad because he wanted to do right by me. I appreciate it knowing he's on my side. So, uh, that's okay, I guess?" Bokuto winces at the end of his sentence, unsure.

 

"You sure, Bokuto-san?"

 

A glance at Kuroo and Bokuto is sure of his decision. "Yeah."

 

"Really?" This time, it's Kuroo the one who gasps in surprise.

 

"Yeah. Just promise me you won't do it again."

 

"Yes, yes, yesyesyesyes," Kuroo chants, hurrying past Kenma to Bokuto's bedside. He kneels down, eyes up to meet Bokuto's, hands on the knees, clenching and unclenching. He keeps a respectable distance from the nest made up of Fukurodani's jackets, much to Bokuto's relief. "Yes, you have my word. I won't do it again. Good god, you're too good for me, you shit."

 

Bokuto smiles.

 

"Should I take it everything is good now?" Kenma asks for confirmation.

 

"Yeah. Thanks, Kozume. You're a good person," Bokuto says sheepishly.

 

"No problem. I have a feeling that Kuroo hasn't finished yet, so I'll be downstairs to help Bokuto-san's mother with lunch," Kenma tells them, opening the door. His yellow eyes are glinting when he warns Kuroo, "Do anything funny to Bokuto-san, I won't hesitate to call the police. Remember that my nose can easily detect any changes in your scent. Don't expect me to be nice just because you're my friend, Kuroo."

 

"I wouldn't dare," Kuroo cracks a wobbly smile.

 

Once Kenma is out of the room, silence settles between them again. Kuroo is having a thought when Bokuto's eyes flicker over his face.

 

Bokuto plays with the sleeves of Akaashi's jacket and mumbles, "So… what is it you wanna talk about?"

 

"Yeah, that." Kuroo scratches the nape of his neck, his nervous tic. "That day—when I heard from Akaashi what happened, I got mad."

 

"Yeah, I know. We've established that."

 

"No, no. Well, yeah, I was angry at that bastard, but I was angry with myself too."

 

"Kuroo, it wasn't your fault," Bokuto assures him.

 

"I know—" Kuroo raises his voice an octave and then takes a deep breath, "I know that. I wish I were there to help you. I wish I could've done something to prevent it from happening. You didn't deserve to experience that."

 

"Kuroo."

 

"Look, Bokuto, we both can't deny the fact that those bastards of Alphas had been harassing you since your coming of age. You always complained about it, and yet I didn't take action. In fact, I laughed it off, and that was fucking awful."

 

Bokuto notices the worry lines settling deep in Kuroo's brows. In two years of their friendship, he's adapted to the smiles Kuroo wears, from a little smirk to a genuine smile. That's why he doesn't sit too well with Kuroo's frown.

 

"I wish I could've done something about it. I wish you wouldn't have had to experience that. I wish I could've stopped it."

 

"You couldn't have known."

 

"Yeah, I know. That's why I want to make sure it won't happen again."

 

Kuroo's firm tone takes Bokuto by surprise. "What do you mean?"

 

"Transfer to Nekoma."

 

There's a pin drop silence. Bokuto stares at him, mind drawing a blank. And then he recovers, "What again?"

 

"Transfer to Nekoma," Kuroo repeats, "I'll protect you—no, Nekoma will protect you. I'm sure Yakkun and Kai will agree, and the rest will come around. We'll convince our Coach to accept you into our club."

 

"Kuroo, Nekoma's in Yokohama. That's like, uhm, four stations away. I don't look forward to morning rush every day," Bokuto pouts.

 

"I'll come and fetch you. Free escort every day."

 

"But the fare—"

 

"I'll cover it."

 

"Transfer papers—"

 

"I'll fill them for you."

 

"The class—"

 

"I'll help you with your studies. I'll even give you my position as the captain if you want."

 

"Kuroo," Bokuto breathes, surprised, and then swallows his words back as soon as he catches the fire of determination in Kuroo's eyes. He lets out a sigh. "You're serious, aren't you?"

 

"I am," Kuroo states.

 

Bokuto stares. Kuroo doesn't cave under his scrutiny—the fire remains burning alight in his eyes, firm and sincere. It brings a smile to Bokuto's lips unbidden. Instead of feeling patronized by Kuroo's one-sided decision, Bokuto feels moved by his protectiveness. The memory of Kuroo's Alpha scent all but sweeps away by the light wind of spring.

 

"You're a great friend, Kuroo. I appreciate it, but I have to say no."

 

Kuroo grumbles out, "Why?"

 

Bokuto tilts his head to the side, humming in thought.

 

"Because I need my team, and my team needs me."

 

"Join my club. You'll be fine. You won't feel any different."

 

"No, no—well, Nekoma's great, but my place is with Fukurodani. I belong with Fukurodani. My teammates—they aren't just teammates. They're my packmates. They acknowledged me even if I hadn't presented back then, and they never treat me different even though I'm an Omega. I'm so grateful for that. Nothing can ever replace them," Bokuto says, tugging at Akaashi's jacket draped over his shoulders.

 

He takes the jackets of his teammates pilling around his bed and cradles them like they're his most precious charm. His vision is glittering as the images of his teammates float across his mind.

 

Kuroo doesn't say a word as if he's respecting the sentiment. Bokuto sniffles and grins.

 

"You see this? Konoha's jacket. He's a Beta, but he smells like spices. It's okay since it matches his prickly self. This one is Washio's. He smells like a pine tree. His scent makes me sleepy. This one is Saru's. He smells like a field of lavenders. That's probably the reason why Komi always falls asleep on him. And Komi smells like a candy apple! His scent makes me want to bite his hand. Sweet and sour, yummy. This one is Omonaga's. He has got no scent yet, but he's nice giving me his jacket. My pup's the best!"

 

"The one over your shoulders?" Kuroo points out.

 

That shifts his attention to Akaashi's jacket. Bokuto puts his teammates' jackets in his lap, and then pulls at the collar of Akaashi's jacket, nuzzling into it. "This one's Akaashi's. The rest—they help me sleep at night. But Akaashi's jacket makes the nightmares go away. Makes me feel like a person again. Not a victim. Not an Omega. Just a person."

 

A beat of silence. Bokuto glances up. Kuroo maintains the eye contact. Kuroo's lips are twisted up into a small smile. A flicker of emotions swims in Kuroo's eyes, the one that Bokuto can't decipher, the one that gives him a knot to his belly.

 

Before Bokuto can say anything to chase this feeling away, Kuroo beats to it with a sigh, "Fine. I get it. I won't ask you to transfer to Nekoma anymore."

 

"Thanks, Kuroo," Bokuto grins.

 

"But—" Kuroo reaches out and pinches both of Bokuto's cheeks. Bokuto yelps but Kuroo doesn't seem to have any intention to let him go. "—if something like this shit happens again, I won't hesitate to drag your ugly ass to Nekoma. Well, after I beat that motherfucker into pulp, of course. You hear me?"

 

"Okay, okay, I got ya!! Hey, Kuroo! My precious cheeks—let me go~! Bad kitty, bad kitty!!!"

 

Kenma suddenly pokes his head through the door, startling them both. "Uhm, pardon the interruption but uh, Akaashi's downstairs."

 

"AKAASHI!!!" And Bokuto bolts for the door.

 

At the entrance, Bokuto finds Akaashi handing over a jar of pickles to his mother. He looks great even in his casual wear—his dark jeans match the jacket, combined with a white t-shirt underneath. Akaashi notices his presence from the corner of his eye and smiles. Bokuto's cheeks grow warm.

 

"Speaking of the devil," his mother says, "Koutarou, entertain your friend here, will you? I haven't finished preparing lunch."

 

"Have I come at a wrong time?" Akaashi asks.

 

"Nonsense. Kuroo-kun and his little friend are here too. All of you are going to have lunch with us today," his mother decides. "Now, Koutarou, bring Akaashi-kun to your room."

 

Akaashi attempts to intercept. "But—"

 

"Forget it, Akaashi. You won't be able to change her mind," Bokuto tells him, skipping over to Akaashi after his mother left. "Hey, Akaashi, hey. How was the pep rally? Was it bad? Had I made a wrong decision not to come? Nanase—how's Nanase? Is Nanase doing good? And Komi—how's his doing?"

 

"One question at a time, Bokuto-san." Akaashi holds his hand up, close to Bokuto's chest. He takes out his shoes and arranges them nicely. His glare is sharp when he says, "I thought we've agreed to no discussion about the club until Monday."

 

Bokuto fiddles with his thumbs. "I'm worried that—"

 

"Worry about yourself first." Akaashi pinches his nose.

 

"AKAASHI!"

 

"What happened to your cheeks? They're red," Akaashi asks, letting go of his nose.

 

"Kuroo pinched them," Bokuto mumbles, his voice muffled by his hands covering the nose.

 

"I don't know what you did, but I'm certain that you deserved it."

 

"Akaashi meanie!"

 

Akaashi's smile lifts up to his eyes, which crinkle at the corner and glow, their depth of darkness making his green eyes more mysterious and beautiful. Bokuto's heart skips a beat. His knees liquefy when Akaashi glances up over his profile. Bokuto feels exposed, but for Akaashi, he doesn't mind.

 

"I see you making full use of my jacket."

 

A squeak escapes Bokuto. A blush dusts across his cheeks. Instantly, his hand reaches for the jacket.

 

"I—uh, this—" Bokuto stammers.

 

"How's your sleep? Do you still have nightmares?" Akaashi asks.

 

"No, not really. The jackets—the nest helps a lot." Bokuto refrains himself from telling the truth. He doubts that 'your jacket helps a lot' will fly well. His racing heart won't be able to handle the embarrassment.

 

"I'm glad."

 

"I'll return your jacket and the rest as soon as possible."

 

"Good idea," Akaashi remarks, "But you can keep mine. I can get a new one myself."

 

"You don't have to."

 

"Bokuto-san, your well-being is the top priority right now. If it can help you get better sleep at night, then I don't mind spending a bit more. Don't think I wouldn't notice your eye bags, Bokuto-san," Akaashi notes, his thumb sweeping across the dark circle under Bokuto's right eye.

 

Bokuto can't help but lean into the touch as a soft purr rumbles in his chest. His eyelids flutter closed. The gesture is gentle. Akaashi's hand feels warm. His Omega instincts coo in approval.

 

A sudden pinch on the cheek snaps Bokuto out of his daze. Akaashi gives him an indifferent look. "And it's my job as the vice-captain to make sure that the captain functions well during practice. Also, you're annoying when you're not getting enough sleep."

 

"Akaashi meanie! I'm hurt. I'm telling everyone!"

 

"Oh, no, my good reputation will be ruined. Should I make up to you?" Akaashi deadpans in a bored tone.

 

"Yes, do something! Or I'll tell people about your evil scheme!!!" Bokuto threatens or at least tries to since it's not working. An amused smile tugs at Akaashi's lips.

 

Not that Bokuto cares. He needs a light conversation after the whole ordeal. The assault, the subdrop, the restless nights, the nightmares and Kuroo's Alpha authority. He's glad Akaashi plays along.

 

But nothing can prepare him when Akaashi suddenly decides, "How about a date, then?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Kuroo!"

 

"Bokuto!"

 

"Kuroo!"

 

"Bokuto!"

 

"Arcade!"

 

"Arcade!!!"

 

Excitement spiking, they rush into the arcade like a pair of children.

 

The arcade is full of people. Bokuto can barely move around the whack-a-moles and the race-car-driving machines. He peers over his shoulder and sees Kuroo using his tall body to shield Kenma from getting crushed by the crowd. Judging from Kenma's annoyed expression and the way he shrinks into himself, it's a bad decision to drag him here. But it's been a while, and Bokuto's hand twitches wanting to punch something.

 

Plus, Akaashi did allow him to decide on their date location. Well, he wouldn't call it a date since he asked Kuroo and Kenma to tag along. Bokuto couldn't tell them to go home after all the troubles they went through to visit him.

 

Hence, the date that isn't a date, with Kuroo and Kenma as the third wheel. Akaashi doesn't comment anything either, opting to follow close behind him in silence instead, so Bokuto figures it's alright.

 

Bokuto walks past a portly middle-aged man blocking the aisle as he plays a blinking machine. Everywhere is light and electronic music, the clink of coins pushed into machine slots, the cheers of winners, the scoffs of losers and the laughter, the talking, the noise.

 

He inches towards the back of the arcade with what feels like infinite slowness. He pushes through crowds of teenage girls and primary school boys, university students with too much time on their hands, and even a foreigner, with pale, pasty skin and frizzy hair.

 

To his delight, the crowds have thinned at the back of the arcade. Bokuto cheers as he sees an available boxing machine, "Hey, lucky, hey!!!"

 

"Boxing machine—why am I even surprised?" Kuroo cackles.

 

"ALRIGHT!!! Let's have a punch off!!!" Bokuto swings his arm to point at Kuroo. A broad grin splits his face into two, "Who gets the higher score wins! The loser must buy the winner yakisoba bread!"

 

Kuroo rolls his dominant shoulder, eyes ablaze. "Sure. Be prepared 'cause I'm gonna milk your wallet dry."

 

"Good luck, then. I'll find a bench—" Before Kenma can even finish his words and takes a step away, Kuroo grabs hold of his collar.

 

"No, you don't. Stay here. It'll be too troublesome if you get lost. Akaashi, can you keep an eye on Kenma so he won't wander away?"

 

"That will be no problem," Akaashi agrees with a small nod.

 

Kenma frowns. "I'm not a kid."

 

"That'd be more convincing if you hadn't gotten lost when we had a match with Karasuno, kitten."

 

"Oh, Kozume got lost?! I'd never thought Kozume's worse than me," Bokuto laughs heartily.

 

"Bokuto-san, you have no right to say that when you got lost in Shinjuku," Akaashi reminds him.

 

"Shinjuku's BIG!!!!" Bokuto retorts.

 

"We went there almost every weekend last winter."

 

"It is BIG!!!!!"

 

"Almost. Every. Weekend."

 

"Fine," Bokuto pouts, arms folded over his chest. Then he turns to Kuroo. "C'mon, Kuroo! I'm gonna beat you!"

 

"Go on, then," Kuroo smirks.

 

On fire, Bokuto pushes two coins into the slot. He folds the sleeve of his sweater up to the elbow. Bokuto takes a deep breath, his fist clenching so tightly he can feel the nails jabbing into his palm. The pressure and excitement build as the muscles in his shoulder flex. His heart is racing. He can feel eyes fixated on him from behind—Kuroo's eyes, Kenma's and Akaashi's.

 

His Omega instincts yearn to prove himself in front of the Alpha.

 

With a loud yell, Bokuto throws a punch, hard.

 

The back of the target hits the sensor. The machine peals out merrily. Loudly.

 

Warmth radiates on his knuckles. Adrenaline rushes through the veins. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears.

 

It feels good. It's as though the force drains the burden on his shoulders away.

 

Yes, it feels good.

 

Bokuto stumbles backwards to look at the screen. The score appears in the bright red light.

 

723 points—the highest score.

 

"HEY, HEY, HEY!!!" Bokuto cheers, hands pumping in the air. Then he whirls around to Akaashi to fish some praises. "Did you see that? Did you see that, Akaashi?!"

 

Akaashi makes an impressed look. "Yes, it was amazing, Bokuto-san. Well done."

 

"I know right?! I think I could do better, though," Bokuto says, hands on his hips, chest puffed out in proud.

 

"Don't get full of yourself, Bo," Kuroo interrupts. "You think that's enough to hold me down? In your dream, you owl bastard."

 

Annoyed, Bokuto challenges, "Show me what you got, then!"

 

"Don't cry when you lose," Kuroo drawls lazily.

 

Kuroo swings a punch. It's a strong punch considering he's a middle blocker who's occasionally required to spike as well. But at 569 points, Bokuto's punch was stronger.

 

"I WIN!!!" Bokuto declares while Kuroo clicks his tongue under his breath. "Akaashi, I win! I win!!!"

 

"I can see that, Bokuto-san."

 

"So, Kuroo has to buy Bokuto-san yakisoba bread. That's tragic. Can we leave now?" Kenma asks from Akaashi's right side.

 

"Oh, no, no, no. You can't leave yet, Kenma. Not until you play this game as well," Kuroo suggests with a smirk. "Live a little, kitten."

 

Kenma looks irritated behind his PSP. "Are you trying to have revenge on me for what happened in the afternoon?"

 

"Maybe?" Kuroo's smirk is wide.

 

"I refuse," Kenma flatly declines.

 

"Ah, Akaashi should play too! Maybe this can motivate Kozume to play along," Bokuto pitches in an idea. He feels brilliant right now.

 

"Wait, how can I get dragged into this?" Akaashi questions no one in particular.

 

"Please, Akaashi!!!" Bokuto wheedles.

 

"Bokuto-san—"

 

"Akaashi!"

 

"I don't think—"

 

"AKAASHI!!!"

 

Akaashi stares at him for a long while that it makes Bokuto's skin crawl. Trapped under Akaashi's scrutiny, everything tunes out of his ears. It feels like he's drowning in the darkness of Akaashi's green eyes.

 

After what seems like an eternity, Akaashi gives in with a sigh, "Fine."

 

"Yay to me~!!!"

 

"Kenma, do you want to let our little owlet down here?" Kuroo throws a bait. On cue, Bokuto puts on a pleading look, complete with wobbly lips and tears in his eyes.

 

Kenma seems surprised, then torn, and annoyed before he releases a heavy sigh. "I hate you two."

 

"Yay to us~!!" Bokuto and Kuroo chorus and give double high-fives to each other.

 

"Kozume should do first, then," Akaashi gestures Kenma to the machine.

 

Kenma reluctantly drags himself to the boxing machine. He makes a fist, stares at it with a pinched expression, sighs heavily and pushes the cushion down until it touches the sensor.

 

The machine blares, showing up 25 points, but Kenma doesn't bat an eye, uncaring as he returns to his previous spot.

 

"There. Done," Kenma informs, indifferent.

 

"What the HELL was that?!" Kuroo screams. "That wasn't a punch! You freaking pushed it down!!!"

 

"I got a score, so it counted as a punch, right?"

 

"KENMA!!!"

 

"Whoa, I didn't know you could play like that!" Bokuto exclaims, impressed, eyes twinkling. "Should I push it down instead of punching it? Akaashi, Akaashi, can I do it too?"

 

"No, Bokuto-san. Your score wouldn't be as high if you tried that," Akaashi says.

 

Bokuto deflates, "I see."

 

"It's my turn, I believe," Akaashi notes aloud, pulling his sleeve up.

 

Bokuto studies Akaashi's arm. While it's obvious that his arm is more muscular compared to Akaashi's, the way his tendon shifts and thickens, veins popping out on the lean arm as Akaashi stretches it manages to steal Bokuto's breath away.

 

For some reason, Akaashi seems to exude strength despite his lean body.

 

Like an Alpha.

 

Bokuto tears his gaze away. It's obvious Akaashi's an Alpha. His scent has made it clear since Akaashi's coming of age a year ago.

 

A loud thud snaps Bokuto's head up. Akaashi's thrown a punch. The machine announces the score. 510 points.

 

"Not bad," Kuroo whistles. Meanwhile, Kenma hums out his amazement.

 

"Still can't beat your score and Bokuto-san's, though. I need to improve my physical power levels," Akaashi comments, eyeing his fist suspiciously.

 

But it's more than enough to amaze Bokuto. His Omega instincts thrum at the strength display. There is this urge in him wishing to have Akaashi's strong arms around him, to have Akaashi's natural scent fill him, to have Akaashi's body pressed against him. Like they did in the infirmary, warm and—

 

"Alright, time to grab a bite!"

 

Kuroo's voice jars Bokuto out of his thoughts. He looks up and finds Akaashi raising a brow at him.

 

"Are you okay, Bokuto-san? You're turning red," Akaashi points out.

 

 Bokuto shakes his head. "I, uh, I'm hungry, I think? Yeah, it's yakisoba time. Kuroo, you owe me yakisoba bread!!!"

 

And he rushes to Kuroo, ignoring Akaashi's gaze and his reddening ears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perhaps it's not his intention to make it dramatic, but with Kuroo around, it's somewhat a difficult task for not to be a drama queen. Fated to share the same wavelength, they both tend to make everything silly and ridiculous, parting ways included.

 

"Bro, Kuroo, I'm gonna miss you a lot!" Bokuto feigns crying into Kuroo's shoulder, arms around him.

 

Trust Kuroo to play along with the game. "Me, too! Why must we part ways? I can't live without you!"

 

"Excuse me for interrupting," Akaashi's voice interjects, "But I have to remind you that Yokohama is next to Tokyo. Still within the Tohoku region."

 

"'Kaashi, you're ruining the moment!" Bokuto admonishes.

 

"He has an icy heart," Kuroo hisses, "So cold it burns him."

 

"Told you not to disturb their drama," Kenma states, his eyes glued to his PSP. Akaashi resigns with a sigh.

 

By the time Bokuto is dragged away by Akaashi from Kuroo and Kenma so they can get on the train, the sun already sinks low on the horizon, painting the sky in cranberry red. Known as a chatterbox, Bokuto can't keep himself quiet on their way going back home. Most people would've felt annoyed by his endless chattering, but Akaashi entertains his questions in his smooth tone, with no hint of annoyance. Instead of irritation, Akaashi has his lips turning up at the edges, a little toying at the corners. The setting sun casts light over the side of Akaashi's face, warm and glow. It accentuates the soft and hard lines on his face.

 

Perfect and beautiful. Like a painting.

 

A stir of warmth blooms in Bokuto's gut.

 

Bokuto picks up his pace as soon as his house in the view. At the front gate, he tells Akaashi out of politeness, "That was fun. We should do it again."

 

"Yes, we should," Akaashi concedes with the slightest smile. "Not bad for a first date, yes?"

 

"Was that a date?"

 

Akaashi shrugs. "You can take it however you want. A date, hanging out with friends. Though, considering that we're under the pretence of courting, some might take it as a date. Not that matters, anyway."

 

Right, the fake courtship, that statement slaps Bokuto back to reality. The thought sends a small knot to his chest, but he ignores the feeling. Bokuto pulls a smile, "Yep, not bad at all," leaving out the 'date' part, because really, this is none other than a charade.

 

Like the infirmary—the warm embrace, the soothing words. They were just tricks to fool others. Not himself.

 

The scent gland under his suppressant patch throbs stronger after Akaashi left.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm super duper sorry for the late update. life gets in the way (T^T)
> 
> i think i'm gonna need a new beta-reader. anyone? uhm, no? okay


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